Moonbeam's War
by Britz
Summary: Fans of Antimorphs and One Least Likely! An alternate dimension spinoff, not Animorphs but damn decent Sci-fi, a psycotic gang leader and his unhinged posse are the only ones who can save the Universe, if they don't destroy it first.
1. When Hell Is Full The Dead Will Walk The...

Britz-Well viewers what can I say? If you haven't read me mate Elcolo9's Antimorphs saga, well sure you could still read (and maybe even enjoy this) but you'll scream and curse that it's not in the right category, not even close, and I suppose it isn't really (and yet where otherwise to turn?) Well if you read and enjoyed Antimorphs (and I know you're out there) well read away, you'll understand the start at least, other wise consider this if you're the type who likes Sci-fi and can accept a bizzare beginning.  
  
Disclaimer-Animorphs aren't mine, but for once that isn't an issue, surprise I know in an Animorphs fic, this story was inspired by a piece written for 'The Antimorphs Saga' by Elcolo9 and based on an idea from Elcolo and Ryan Griffin.  
  
Moonbeam's War  
  
Chapter One  
  
THERE IS STILL MUCH LEFT TO PLAY. EVEN YOU CAN SEE THAT.  
  
"NOOO!!!" Wailed Puck, "IT'S NOT FAIR! IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR!"  
  
To little to late, Taggert was gone from the void. Whistler's move was against the rules, those that had never been written or ever really spoken, those acknowledged without real agreement by either side.  
  
Still, what could Puck do? Sue him?  
  
The void tore into flames at Puck's rage, he cursed in the languages of a million different sentient species, some unpronounceable with the tongue of mankind, all still obvious in their intent, rage, a rage so pure and great it would drive mortals insane to experience it.  
  
But hey, immortal life's a bitch, milk gets spilled and you deal with it.  
  
Puck was a demon of action, so what action should be taken? With Taggert? He already had and could do it again but with that meddling Orff what was the use; he was breaking the rules now and would break them again if Puck gave him the excuse.  
  
So what else was a good move? 'Life's like a bad cigar babe,' ran through Puck's devious mind 'it stinks and then it's over.' David Moonbeam's last words.  
  
Moonbeam? Well if that bloody Orff was going to bring back the dead maybe he'd do the same, maybe dress up his universe and give him some more, opportunities.  
  
With a thought Puck was at the crossroads at the time of Moonbeams choice, there was the road to the machine, surrounded by fire and ash, and the soft blue light of the road to paradise.  
  
Moonbeam appeared in featureless black, he looked at his choices, the two paths, "Fuckin' A" and without hesitation started down the road of fire and ash.  
  
Puck grabbed him and flew him further into the void, "Oi buddy, hands off the material!" Moonbeam protested and laughed drunkenly.  
  
Puck set Moonbeam floating in the void, "I've got a proposition for you Moonbeam."  
  
"Well gee, I got nothing in my day planner, shoot." Moonbeam replied offhandedly, he seemed to be taking death awfully well.  
  
"I want to bring you back Moonbeam, give you life again, a better life even, a life of chaos and adventure." Puck sold his proposition with all the zeal of a used-car salesman.  
  
"All the power you dream of, power to destroy." He could see visions of Moonbeams hometown, Utopia, burning down in his eyes. "You'll be stronger than before, faster, more resilient, your body alone will be a powerful weapon."  
  
"What's the catch?" Moonbeam asked.  
  
"Just that you fulfil your urges and use all your power to do so, create the chaos you've always dreamed of, all over the universe."  
  
Moonbeams grin widened till it looked as if it would fall from his face and shatter on the floor, it was not the grin of a person with all their screws tightly wound, "Might I ask how I'll be able to do these wonderful things you suggest?"  
  
Puck smiled "means will be, provided if you are smart enough to take them, a space ship will be needed, you'll soon know how to get a capable one, your posse will be, reinstated, weapons, coordinates, information are all there you just have to fill in the blanks."  
  
"Space ship huh? A universal force for Chaos." Moonbeams eyes glazed over thoughtfully and he stuck out his hand, "Mr demon motherfucker, you got a deal."  
  
Puck's smile widened as he took Moonbeam's hand "Please, call me Puck."  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Like most graveyards Utopia's was a dank and unpleasant place, graveyards were only reserved only for criminals and sinners, the good were, of course, cremated so that their soul could go into the afterlife, just quaint old superstition these days of course, but still traditional.  
  
Most of the epitaphs read like jail-records, exposing the inhabitants of the graves as murderers, rapists, Kenny Rogers fans.  
  
There was a collection of six matching gravestones of plain dull grey in a row, the graves were not fresh but not old, three months dug at the most, each of the epitaphs under their names were very plain "Member of the Moon Beam Posse." as if that said enough.  
  
Grave number two stirred first, Rachel Stantford 1964-1981, a feminie but muscular arm clawed it's one out of the dirt, followed by the head and shoulders of the blond beauty, gasping for air.  
  
Miguel Vasquez, better know to the people of Utopia as 'Roach' was next to rise, a short Hispanic teen at 5'2" tall and a voice that rasped like sandpaper, despite his diminutive stature only the brave or foolhardy would take him on, something that most people saw in Roach's hard, cruel face made them think twice about wether they could take him.  
  
Next Sigourney "Siggs" Delotoya, a buxom southern redhead with a deep throaty voice ploughed upwards, she coughed loudly and spat as soon as her head broke the surface, typical wakeup ever since she started smoking a pack a day at fourteen, her hands clutched at the side of the grave, subconsciously searching for a crumpled pack of Marlborough unfiltered that wasn't there.  
  
She pulled herself from the grave and arched her back, popping some obscure joint in her spine, she was wearing a low cut white T-shirt with a Confederate flag, stretched out of shape by her very generous bust, on the front.   
  
The two end graves broke through the dirt simultaneously, but in different ways, it suited the people who were in the graves, they themselves were as different as, well as black and white.  
  
Francis Powell (His real name finally exposed on his gravestone, he was far better known as Taz to friends and enemies) broke the surface with a skyward punch that sent clods of dirt flying and determinly clawed his way up.   
  
Taz was the product aimed for with WASP breeding, he stood ramrod straight at 6'3" with a broad, very muscular frame, he had blond hair, blue eyes and a square chin Roger Ramjet would be proud of. He looked like a statue carved from a giant block of marble with all the pale colour, chiselled muscles and personality that entailed.  
  
Richie Cortes came out of the grave one finger at a time, scared, nervous. Richie was an African-Utopian with a scrawny build and a plain, unremarkable face, Richie had been way over his head when he died and as far as he was concerned coming back from the dead had only gotten him deeper.  
  
He was the only sixteen year old, all the others were seventeen when they died (although Sigourney had been getting close to eighteen) he'd been nothing more than a small-league drug pusher before he'd met Moonbeam who, for his own strange reasons, had taken a shine to Richie and made him part of the posse's inner circle.  
  
He was a very unlucky guy was Richie, life had not been good to him, he didn't think death was going to make his luck any better.  
  
The five inner members of the Moon Beam Posse stood and stretched, brushed away the grave dirt that clung to their clothes, they were all wearing the outfits they had on the day of their deaths but they were no longer bloody or sewn with bullet holes, happily neither were they themselves, the posse looked to the grave of their leader.  
  
It was as plain as the others, David J. Moonbeam 1964-1981 "Leader of the Moon Beam Posse." The grave was as quiet as graves tend to be.  
  
Several beats of awkward silence flew by, they knew what had happened, why they were here and alive but didn't know the real words of Moonbeam's conversation with Puck, they couldn't remember death, only the very end of life, couldn't remember the paths or their choices but were ingrained with the knowledge of why they lived yet.  
  
But were confused as to why Moonbeam did not.  
  
"Fuck this" Roach said finally, "Where the hell's Dave?"  
  
"Fucked if I know sugar." Siggs replied and wished for a smoke while she waited, "Maybe we should dig him up."  
  
"Lets do that then." Taz said, he was a very basic man of action, standing around a grave, waiting for something to happen didn't strike a chord with him, if the dead didn't rise, go in after them.  
  
The posse got to their knees and begun to dig.  
  
"This ain't usually how you 'work' on your knees, eh Siggs?" Roach rasped  
  
"Fuck you honey" Siggs laughed, "You wish, I have to get on my knees to just look you in the goddamn face."  
  
Rachel snorted loudly, Roach hissed his harsh laugh, Taz was silent, he didn't come with a sense of humour, Richie was quiet and stayed out of the way as always.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Meanwhile, elsewhere, about the time that Rachel Stantford's sleek yet muscular arm pounded through to the surface of her grave an explosive flame roared from the parking lot of a seedy downtown bar known as 'The Crater'.  
  
Unfortunately there was no one to see it's demonic beauty as it burned briefly, the number '666' danced within it's depths for a second and it went out, leaving behind an unharmed well-built naked young man, wrapped in the foetal position.  
  
Moonbeam collapsed spread eagled on the pavement, "Wow! What a rush!" He grinned, he looked around the lot, it was sometime in the middle of Utopia's artificial night, the lot was full of bikes and cars, the bar full of patrons.  
  
As he picked himself up a stumbling drunk made his way from the bar and came through the lot towards Dave, making a twisting beeline to his bike.  
  
He saw the naked teen and scraped a hand down his unshaven cheek but decided he was to drunk to give two short shits and continued on his way.   
  
Dave stepped in front of him and looked him up and down, at his faded denim jeans and his tatty leather jacket, the guy looked about his size, slowly dawning the drunk sensed a fight and raised his fists. He never stood a chance.  
  
Moonbeam grabbed the poor guy around the throat and lifted him till his feet dangled more than a half-foot off the ground, he was momentarily surprised at how light the guy seemed but that didn't stop him from quoting. "I need your clothes, your boots, and your motorcycle."   
  
Dave laughed till complete confusion replaced the fear in the drunk's eyes and then squeezed hard and to the right, cleanly snapping the poor fellows neck.  
  
He threw the limp body to the ground and starting taking off its jacket, the drunk was still breathing, but it was shallow and probably wouldn't last much longer.  
  
Dave stripped the drunk of his shirt jacket and jeans, mildly annoyed that the drunk had gone commando today, he found a set of keys in the pocket of the jeans and begun looking at which bike they fitted when three bikie types exited the bar.  
  
First was a black man with the shoulders of a line backer and biceps the size of baked hams, his head was dented and scarred, a cranium forged by a life of fighting.   
  
The second bikie, despite being white was a dead ringer for Mr. T; he didn't have the traditional mohawk (instead his hair was long and greasy) but had the beard, the height and muscles of the infamous A-team Sergent.  
  
The third was an older, career bikie. His head was shaved down to the skin but his bread grew, slightly greying to his chest, he bulged with beer muscle, looking fat but a contender against him would be wise to note the way no fat jiggled when he walked, his singlet was covered in so many stains it looked like an alien's road map, he was the first to see Dave.  
  
"Oi! That motherfucker's got Leo's jacket!!" He yelled.  
  
That stalked towards him, "That motherfucker's got Leo." The black guy said and pointed to the ground where the now dead drunk lay, naked with his head at an odd angle. "Get him!"  
  
They ran for him, Dave didn't move, "Time to see what this new improved body can do." He muttered, the black guy swung and he grabbed his wrist and broke it in one swift movement, using him as a human shield against Mr. T and the fat cue ball he pounded fist after fist into his ribcage.  
  
The guy was shocked, the pain didn't even register before Moonbeam let go of his wrist and ploughed both arms into the black fellas shoulders, shattering his collarbone, Moonbeam shoved his broken chest and the guy fell back, cracking his head on the ground and sending him to sweet unconsciousness or even sweeter death.  
  
This turn of events didn't stop Cue ball and Mr. T they moved in from both sides, Mr. T swung a plank of wood he'd found somewhere along the way, Dave blocked with his left arm and the wood broke in half on it, he grabbed Mr. T's right wrist and twirled him around, dislocating his shoulder and giving a couple of solid punches to the kidney while his back was exposed.  
  
His right arm dangling limply Mr. T looked to Moonbeam in fear before the roundhouse kick connected with his jaw, to Dave the kick seemed like it went in slow motion for a moment, he saw and felt the bikies jaw shatter on the heel of his boot, a couple of his bottom teeth went spiralling through the air, Mr. T fell down and didn't get back up.  
  
Cue ball had stopped his attack, he looked like he didn't know weather to cut and run or stay and fight, Moonbeam didn't give him the time to decide he punched for the beer muscle gut and flew another into Cue ball's nose, pulverising it.  
  
Dave backed away to watch Cue ball stagger briefly, fall to his knees, and collapse to the ground; he watched him for a moment and kicked into the aging bikies jaw for good measure, shattering his teeth.  
  
He tried a couple of bikes before he found the right one, he swung his leg over the purring machine and took one last look back at his first kills as a reborn anti-Christ.  
  
He'd destroyed them, grinded them under his heel and it had been so easy, fun really, he felt a surge of pleasure in his veins, second time around he thought life was going to be even more of a blast than the first.  
  
He gunned the bike's engine and hit the road, he knew where his posse would be, Puck hadn't told him, Moonbeam had actually thought they'd arrive the same way as him, however that would be.  
  
The graveyard, he could feel it, he pulled up at the gates and sniggered at a piece of graffiti of the wall nearby 'When Hell is full the dead will walk the earth' How apt he thought, how wonderfully apt, it was a sign from the irony gods! His grin was that of a tiger stalking it's prey as he walked through the gravestones.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
"It's empty." Roach told the others gruffly as he stared into he cheap wooden coffin that should contain, at the very least, the earthly remains of their leader.  
  
A motorcycle growled past the cemetery and for a moment they froze, "What do you mean empty?" Hissed Rachel.  
  
"As in not full, what do you think I mean ya dumb bitch!" He retorted angrily.  
  
"So that leaves us...where?" Richie asked to an answer of silence.  
  
"Maybe he came out and left a while before us?" Siggs asked.  
  
"And what?" Taz said, "Fixed up the grave and coffin for us to find?" They slumped.  
  
"He must have been, I dunno, resurrected in a different way or something." Rachel said.  
  
A snapping stick behind them interrupted everyone's thoughts, Taz whirled around to attack and received a punch to the abs, they were solid abs, forged by a countless number of sit-ups but from the force of that punch they crumbled.  
  
David Moonbeam stepped past the gasping Taz and into the circle of his inner posse. "Hey kids." He said, "Daddy's home."  
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz-And rather quickly I might add, I've been rather slack with posting but not with writing so I'm a fair way ahead, but I want reviews before I start posting away with little regard for my own shelfish needs, also nI have it on good authority (Okay, Elcolo's authority) that the next bit is much better than this one, hey good news for all of us. 


	2. Guns Don't Kill People, I Kill People

Britz-Cheers for the reviews y'all, and keep them coming, I'm hoping to pick up all you Elcolo and Quill fans as I pick up speed.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
With Roach at the wheel the stolen bread truck zoomed down the dark highway, leaving its original driver twisted and broken in a ditch not far from the graveyard.  
  
"Need a phonebook to sit on honey?" Siggs inquired sweetly, Roach hissed his rough scraping laughter. Dave also sat up front, the others were in the back with their tasty but useless stolen cargo.  
  
"So where are we headed Dave?" Roach asked.  
  
"Down near the space cruiser docks." He replied, "Dorian Blanzer's gun shop."  
  
Siggs and Roach grinning, they knew Dorian, he owed the posse a favour, they'd taken out four members of a gang known as 'The Rampage' for him when their boss, Rico Muete - a local mafia big shot, had started leaning on him a little to heavily.  
  
It had been a hell of a showdown that was for sure Roach remembered, a day that was book marked in Utopia's gang history, two Moon Beam Posse members were gunned down, (Flipper an 'inner posse' member and a tough-as-nails bastard who Roach had only known as Blaze.)   
  
Also three cops who had been in the wrong place in the wrong time were sent to the big Krispy Kreme in the sky before the bad mothers know as 'The Four Horsemen' were taken down, mercenaries known as Blades, Crips, Coil and Hounder if he remembered right.  
  
Dorian was apparently left alone after that, why he was when Rico didn't know he was responsible (if he'd been discovered he probably would have found himself in an airlock about to shoot him into the vast reaches of space.) Moonbeam didn't know, didn't care for that matter all he knew was that Dorian owed him a favour and wether he was dead or not wasn't going to stop him from cashing it in.  
  
You see Dorian was a very useful person to have owing you a favour, he ran a gun store, a fairly sparse one, nothing special really in the bad part of town not far from the space cruiser port.  
  
However that was a front, strangely enough for other guns, not the shotguns, occasional rifle or handgun that you could buy at his counter, semi-automatics, assault rifles, and lots of them, some he sold to the gangs of Utopia others were shipped further into the solar system, to Mars and planets beyond.  
  
Dorian Blantzer, a quiet looking, slightly overweight Italian bloke with grey thinning hair was in fact the biggest and best gunrunner on the moon with a incredible talent for surviving and continuing to deal even under constant police scrutiny, cops that knew, knew without a shadow of doubt that Dorian was the guy they were after but could never grab anything tangible on him.  
  
He was reading a newspaper when the dented old bell above his door rang as the posse came in, The Utopia Times, it's headline story blazed about aliens have a date planned for first contact or something, weird thought Moonbeam in a respectable news paper, more like something from one of those trashy supermarket tabloids.  
  
"Evenin'" grunted Dorian without looking up at the newly resurrected posse, he still talked through a cigar in the side of his mouth, he was known for it, when he died they'd probably have to pry a foul smelling stub of one out of his mouth.  
  
"Still smoking those cheap cigars Dorian?" Moonbeam grinned.  
  
Dorian looked up, the newspaper hit the counter, seconds later so did the cigar as his mouth gaped open. "Moonbeam? Dave Moonbeam? What da... You're, you're fuckin' dead."  
  
"You'd think so wouldn't you?" Dave replied.  
  
Dorian took them all in with a scared and shocked expression, "You're dead, the whole lot of youse are dead!"  
  
"Ya just can't keep a good corpse down Dorian." Roach rasped.  
  
Dave went up to the counter and picked up the cigar-stub, like he was feeding a baby he gently jammed it into Dorian's mouth who instinctively clamped on it and puffed. "Now if my memory serves me right before we were unfortunately interrupted you owed us a favour, we've come to cash it in."  
  
Eyes still filled with shock Dorian breathed smoke and blew it out his nostrils, looking like a bull on heat, "Right this way ladies and gentlemen."  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Dorian Blanzer led the Posse into the shops grungy basement, it looked mostly unused, a few crates with unsold copies of 'Guns and Ammo' in them, dust and rat shit barely lit by the swinging light of a single naked bulb.  
  
"Love what you've done with the place." Rachel remarked.  
  
Dorian ignored her, either he didn't care or didn't want to smart mouth a dead woman, he took a small device out of his pocket, looked like a calculator, in fact as far as Dave could see it was a calculator, Dorian pressed it against the wall and pressed a sequence on it and soundlessly the wall slid away.  
  
Dorian had shown this little feature to very few as there was few he trusted, certainly none of those street punk gangs he had sold to had, types that if they got caught with the right connections might let the storeroom slip for a few months off of their sentence and cook his proverbial goose well done.  
  
Moonbeam and his posse had never seen the storeroom, though he knew they'd all probably die before they told the cops so much as how long it would take to boil a two-minute egg. No, he hadn't trusted Moonbeam for completely different reasons, but then when a lunatic gang leader turns up fresh from the grave with someone else's blood on his shirt, logical reasons kind of go out the window.  
  
The cops didn't even suspect his cache of guns was in the building, their flimsy warrant didn't find anything out of order in the shop and their scanners couldn't get through to the cache, it was a front maybe to them, not a storing facility, the better the technology of the cops got to get criminals the better the technology of the criminals got.  
  
The posse's eyes all lit up at once like a kid on Christmas morning who looks under the tree to find a new bike, a puppy, and a subscription to Penthouse.  
  
Behind the wall was a large army bunker looking room filled with crates, gun crates, filled with enough guns to fight a modest-sized war and enough ammo to put a hell of a lot of holes in a hell of a lot of people.  
  
Rachel and Siggs slightly leaned against one another, looking smug and satisfied, put a cigarette in each of their hands and you'd think they were sleeping together and loving the alternative lifestyle, Roach's hard calloused face was solid and emotionless but his eyes danced with excitement. Taz who usually looked like a statue had his mouth agape and his eyes were grinning, Richie just looked worried, worried and scared.  
  
Moonbeam was grinning his infamous and terrifying 'Heere's Johnny!' grin, "Wrap it up Dorian baby, we'll take it."  
  
A half hour later the bread from the truck had been dumped in a filthy corner of a warehouse by the spaceports and the posse was loading crates into the back of their stolen truck while Dorian protested, dead and crazy they might have been but he was still a business man.  
  
"Youse can't do this to me!" He yelled, "When I said a favour I mean, yeah, a coupla crates when ya needed 'em but fuck you've takin' all my shit! You're puttin' me outta business!"  
  
Moonbeam either was ignoring him or was lost in his own little world as he slammed a 32 clip home into his brand new MiniUzi.  
  
Roach put the barrel of his new Mossberg 590 shotgun under Dorian's chin, it wasn't from a crate, they'd started taking from the shop as well, "So now we owe you one, sound fair?" He rasped.  
  
Dorian made no sudden moves but didn't relent, "No it don't, you can't afford the kind of favour for taking my whole fuckin' stockpile, you're stealing millions of dollars worth!"  
  
"Maybe you should call the cops on us" Rachel said sweetly, "Tell them a bunch of the living dead came by and stole allllll your illegal weaponry."  
  
Dorian would have loved to strangle the little bitch right there but with that shotgun barrel jammed in his windpipe it would probably be a bit foolish to try, "Fuck the lot of youse." He said.  
  
"That's the spirit." Roach said, Taz came up from behind Dorian and pistol-whipped the back of his head, Dorian crumbled.   
  
The posse continued loading after Dorian was duct taped to a chair behind his counter, he came to once more before they left and started cursing at them in a sleep-slurred voice before Roach took him out again.  
  
They took a rather extravagant amount from Dorian's storeroom, near all the ammo, a very good selection of weapons and anything in particular from the shop that caught their eye.  
  
Very considerate they closed the door, with few crates left inside and drove away in the bread truck.  
  
When Dorian woke up with his head filled with scrambled brains a'la Taz and Roach tag team light was beginning to filter into Utopia's artificial sky, his blurry eyes adjusted, he was slumped over the counter, long cold cigar even now clenched between his lips.  
  
One of them had slightly turned the cash register so he was facing a yellow bumper sticker, least offensive of the several not 'politically correct' ones Dorian had plastered there.  
  
'Guns Don't Kill People, I Kill People.'  
  
"Sonsabitches" Dorian growled.  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Moonbeam drove the bread truck deep into the warehouse, it was filled with boxes of all shapes and sizes but all of them looked so old he was betting the place was abandoned, it's boxes forgotten.  
  
The Posse had started in an abandoned warehouse till they'd found nicer digs in a club's basement, Moonbeam smiled, wasn't so bad, kind of like getting back to his roots.  
  
When parked he picked up the newspaper Dorian had, he was about to leave when Puck's voice had run through his mind "means will be, provided if you are smart enough to take them," Roach and Siggs jumped out of the truck, Roach muttered something and Siggs threw back her head in throaty laughter.  
  
He'd read the date at the top "January 13, 1982" it had been over three months since they'd died and apparently aliens had made their first 'official' contact.  
  
And now they were coming here, a diplomat ship was landing, in just over a week on the 21st, first stop was the middle of Utopia's town square.  
  
A plan started to form in Moonbeam's head, it was a very basic plan, simple, his plans usually were of the genre 'shoot 'em all and let God sort them out.' But he thought maybe luck (and an otherworldly influence) might just be on his side for this one.  
  
Watch out universe, violence just got a little more random.  
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz-Well peeps, give us a review and I'll have the next bit up real soon, just needs a bit of a polish and it'll be ready for you viewing public, adios. 


	3. The Rain In Spain Falls Mainly On The Pl...

Britz-Well what can I say, Moonbeam and posse get themselves some wheels from a familiar old friend.  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Amazingly several days later headlines were beginning to change, grudgedly newspapers owners would admit to their staff that it also had something to do with the fact that the aliens weren't giving any new information and people did start to notice when you printed the same shit on the front page day after day.  
  
The new headlines of The Utopia Times told the city to be on the look out for copycat criminals, posing as the dead Moon Beam Posse.  
  
The empty graves were discovered and dismissed, grave robbing wasn't an uncommon practice among Satan worshippers, probably the same crims who were attacking the city now, claiming to be the legendary Posse.  
  
Less reputable newspapers of course claimed that it was the real Moon Beam Posse back from the grave to get revenge on the city that killed them, but such trash was dismissed immediately by most, only some who had been involved in the attacks thought twice.  
  
But that was just bloody crazy.  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
Moonbeam watched like a proud father as Roach, Taz and Richie splashed gasoline over the pumps and ground of the petrol station, they taped the handles down so that the pumps continued to spew and splash as they ran away.  
  
Richie seemed happy enough, no one would get hurt in this mindless display at least, the attendant at the counter had run screaming, Moonbeam had briefly thought of doing Tyler Durden's trick from Fight Club, change the guys life dramatically. (The movie had been a passing obsession of his, fascinated by the idea behind it.)  
  
He'd dismissed it and then toyed with the idea of shooting the guy in the kneecaps and forcing him to crawl away bleeding and weeping or be blown to bits.  
  
Good thing the guy had ran with knees pumping up to nipple height before Dave could come to a decision.  
  
The guys ran far from the station so the petrol fumes hanging off them wouldn't light, Rachel lit a single Molotov cocktail and threw it through the air.  
  
It arched through the air and shatter on the concrete, the flames ate up the spilled petrol and raced towards the pumps, spewing out precious fuel, into nozzles they blew and a there was moment of frozen time.  
  
The station blew, an deafening explosion rocked the ground on which the Posse stood, flaming pieces of it rained from the sky, one smouldering twisted piece caught on Roach's shirt, he ripped it off and watched it burn.  
  
Sirens warbled in the distance and the posse jumped inside the van, not their bread truck, tucked safely away in the warehouse with all that they had stolen, this van was donated to the cause by a quivering, sobbing man now in a reasonably stable condition in Saint Mary's hospital.  
  
Roach and Siggs landed in the back seat together, She traced a finger down his chest, despite his diminutive stature he was ripped, easily able to bench press his own weight, or Siggs' for that matter, "That all you got little boy?" Siggs mocked.  
  
"How about you whip off your shirt and we'll compare?" Roach rasped, Taz grunted something that could have been a laugh; Siggs thumped him playfully in the arm.  
  
"You kids play nice." Rachel scolded and shot Dave a dazzling smile, tomorrow was the big day, aliens amongst us, close encounter of the third kind, it was the day Moonbeam and posse would get their spaceship or die trying.  
  
They were all excited, Moonbeam found this a little strange, he might've been crazy but he was no fool, they had been terrified when they had gone to take out Governor Clinton, one ex-inner posse member, Spit-fire, had chickened on the day, Richie would have also he was sure, if he wasn't more afraid of him than of almost certain death.  
  
The other's had been scared but were loyal, they would follow him to hell and back, and now he supposed had and were tougher than ever, they'd joined the inner posse so they would be immortalised, now maybe they felt they truly were.  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
Under the huge bleachers he waited, staring at the stage through his gun's scope, a Remington 700, in the seats above talk constantly babbled, behind the bleachers an enormous crowd was gathered, probably half of Utopia was there.  
  
The others also waited for the ship, hidden in the shadows were Roach, Siggs, and Taz, Richie and Rachel were waiting in the bread truck across the street, they could only hope the ship had a cargo hold, a big one, Moonbeam somehow knew it would, he was feeling lucky, he'd got through the cops with a sniper rifle and a cache of guns, he'd avoided their searching, maybe something more than luck was on his side.  
  
Miles above the aliens approached, the giant force field that surrounded Utopia, keeping it and it's own in and everything else out, parted for the ship, every neck in the park craned up wards, and watched it float down, the babbling brook of conversation dissipated to an awed hush.  
  
"The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain." Whispered Moonbeam, he barely realised he was doing it, "there is joy and also pain, but the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain."  
  
The ship looked like an ancient battle axe, a weapon used by the knights of old when men were bold, "Pretty-plain, loony-sane." the front was the handle, it had a sharp triangular point on the front, probably the bridge. "The ways of the world all will change."  
  
At the back swooped two scimitar wings "And all the ways remain the same, but if you're mad or only sane." cargo doors opened while the ship still flew and two fighters came out, they looked like legless cockroaches to Moonbeam "The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain." The fighters flanked the Axe-ship on its way to the ground.  
  
All three landed, Moonbeam hoisted the rifle and aimed at the stage, a door opened from the Axe-ship and creatures came out, big green lizards covered in blades, over a bakers dozen of them, they looked dangerous enough without the strange weapons they clutched, none of them looked in charge though.  
  
Then he exited the ship, gasp and snips of conversation went through the crowd, it wasn't so much how he looked but the creature's very presence, it sent a chill through every spine in the crowd. "We walk in love but fly in chains." babbled Moonbeam and glared through the scope.  
  
The creature that approached the stage reminded most of the ancient Greek myth of the half-man half-horse, 'only blue, and more prissy looking', thought Roach as he waited for the shot, then he saw the tail, like a scorpions it curled from it's rump ending in a wicked looking blade, 'wouldn't be much of a fist-fighter but you wouldn't wanna fuck with that tail either.' Roach mentally muttered.  
  
Its face was without a mouth but all the same Moonbeam could see a smile on its face as it approached his view, it had eyes on stalks that glanced back and forth.  
  
"We walk in love but fly in chains." He quietly repeated, "And the planes in Spain fall mainly in the rain."  
  
It's voice was inside your head when it talked not in sound but no one had time to noticed, it smiled with it's eyes and started [We come in pea..] before the top of it's head blew clean off and the body crumpled.  
  
The lizard-men flew into a rage and began blazing with their strange weapons, red light blazed out, starting with the cops around the stage, there was a moment of pure confusion for the cops, what to do? Who to fire at? Moonbeam started picking off lizards and cops alike, Roach, Siggs and Taz moved in, firing, the crowd screamed and moving as one organism ran from the bleachers, some being struck down by red light and friendly fire as they charged from the park.  
  
It's magazine dry Moonbeam dropped his sniper rifle and reached for his Ruger MP9, a mean looking gun like an evolved MiniUzi, he kicked out the seat in front of him and blazed a way towards the stage.   
  
A cop loomed towards him, bringing up his standard issue sidearm; he was cut down by a stream of bullets from Moonbeam's Ruger. The posse was making a pincer movement for the stage; the lizard's weapons blazed but the posse were to quick.  
  
Roach's matching pair of MiniUzi's turned one lizard's chest into a bloody mess, Siggs fired wildly with her Steyer at two while a laser brushed past her, nearly catching her, the creature responsible went down, Taz fired his own Ruger with his right hand, his left sleeve was soaked with blood but it didn't seem to slow him down.  
  
The fighters were taking off and the bigger ship was warming up, "The ship! Get to the ship!" Moonbeam yelled, they reacted straight away and ran for it.  
  
The door was drawing close by the time the last of the four jumped through, more of the lizard-men tromped down the hall but they're beam weapons weren't easily used in the small space, they came at the posse in single file and were cut down by a rain of bullets.  
  
The bridge wasn't far from the entrance to the ship, the charged for it, a couple of big, disgusting centipedes blocked the paths, Roach sluiced through one with his Uzi, Moonbeam didn't bother even wasting bullets on the other, it went down towards it's partner, maybe to help them and he ploughed over the top it, it's innards burst from it sides as he stomped down.  
  
Dave burst into the bridge, mowing down two lizards that came at him, the Ruger ran dry, he had more ammo but instead dropped it to the floor and reached for the .45's in his waistband.  
  
The world slowed down around Moonbeam, from a mile-a-minute to a snails pace of crawling time, was it imagined or was this part of his new deal with the devil? He didn't know, didn't care.  
  
His three followers leapt for cover under the fire of those beam weapons, firing admirably, Moonbeam walked forwards, he raised the guns and started firing, he noticed that half the crew in the room were human, didn't matter, not yet anyway.  
  
BOOM a lizard firing towards him bought it, BAM a guy turning around to fire flew back, his shot going wild, BOOM lizard who forgot his weapon and attacked with his blades, BAM one of those giant bugs, BOOM lizard, BAM lizard, BOOM a young man firing twin lasers.  
  
Red light blazed around him, their heat washed over him but missed him by a singed hair.  
  
Two humans were left when the guns dry-clicked, both of them unarmed, both at stations that looked important enough to get this baby out of here.  
  
"Roach, the door! Taz, your .45!" Moonbeam yelled, Taz threw him the gun without question, Moonbeam caught it in one fluid movement stood grinding it's barrel into a young woman's face, "Open the cargo doors sweet heart, let my people in." The bread truck was waiting patiently outside.  
  
The woman complied without comment, the truck gunned and drove inside, he could see Rachel, determined and tough load an M16 as Richie pulled in.  
  
A burst of semi-automatic fire from the doorway and something wailed in pain down the hall, Moonbeam seemed not to notice, "Now close the door and get this bird off the ground."  
  
She closed the door while she spoke "I-I can't fly the Blade Ship."  
  
Dave felt his 'Heeere's Johnny' smile rip open his face from ear-to-ear, "Where is it flown from?" He asked.  
  
A flash of fear went through the woman's eyes; the pre-teen guy who'd also survived whimpered something. "Over there." She pointed to one station.  
  
"Watch them!" He called to Taz and went to the controls, the fighters outside were circling, perhaps waiting for orders, not wanting to blow up the 'Blade Ship' on their own authority it did look like an expensive piece of hardware.  
  
The controls were simple enough looking, if you knew what to press and where to pull, the trick was knowing that and he didn't.  
  
No one had bothered telling Moonbeam before but he was a horrendous driver, he'd never bothered to go for any driving tests or get his licence just drove when it was called for, and it had showed.  
  
But the Blade Ship purred under his touch, "Alright gang, blast off." The ship jolted forward and smashed through the empty seats Moonbeam had hidden under. "Oops." The ship arched up towards the force field ceiling of Utopia.  
  
Larry Witmen was the crew manager for the team that controlled the force field that faithful day, the job wasn't terribly difficult, only to manage the upkeep of the field and open it for Space Cruisers carrying cargo and/or passengers. With a touch of a button he could have closed the hole Moonbeam raced towards, probably causing him to crash into the now solid force field and kill all of the crazed gang members.  
  
This blue-collar slob could have saved the universe a great deal of trouble; just by pushing a button he could have killed the anti-Christ.  
  
Instead him and his crew watched as the alien ship blazed out through the artificial sky, one fighter was in to close pursuit and hit at the side of the hole, the other twisted around it through the hole, the blazing wreckage of the alien fighter plummeted down and crushed the stage below, annihilating what remained of the alien leader and his bodyguards.  
  
In the ship Moonbeam was picking up the controls with suspicious ease but he could not shake the fighter behind them, the ship rocked with some of the more accurate laser blasts.  
  
"Siggs take the weapons station!" He yelled.  
  
"Which one's that?" She yelled back, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lower lip.  
  
"That one!" said the pre-teen at his alien station, Siggs took to it, the simplicity of it was unbelievable, joysticks like from an arcade game and a screen to aim with, a ten-year old could have used it, probably better than all the rest of them if the one in question liked arcade games.  
  
Siggs took to them instantly, Moonbeam tried to get the fighter in her sights, he pulled a sharp turn, his poor driving skills working as an advantage, such a turn would have flipped a car if it was going at speed.  
  
A round from the laser cannons blasted the alien fighter into oblivion, Siggs cheered herself, Moonbeam grinned.  
  
"Rachel and Richie, coming up." Roach yelled from the doorway.  
  
Moonbeam let the ship hover above the city, from a distance the field looked like a dome of frosted glass covering the city but up close electricity and sparks danced across it.  
  
On the surface below them was the shield generator, the generator was required to be on both the inside and outside of the force field, it was impervious to missiles and bombs, to protect from terrorist threats.  
  
But the lasers on this ship who knew? Humans had developed lasers of course, it was one of the big breakthroughs for the field technology but they weren't effective as weapons like this ship's were.  
  
"Look at that gang, the field generator, couple of short blasts we could send the whole city into space.  
  
The posse looked sick, Siggs' still unlit cigarette dropped from her mouth and landed in a pool of slowly drying lizard-ichor on the ground.  
  
Moonbeam took to the weapons controls; Siggs let him have them without question "10-9-8-7-..."  
  
To the surprise of all Richie acted, he'd never amounted to shit in his life and he knew it, he'd started pushing because he was afraid of the guys who supplied him, he'd joined the posse because he was terrified of Moonbeam.  
  
He went to tackle Dave from his chair, if he'd amounted to nothing else please God let him do this much for the world.  
  
Taz, looking slightly green about the prospect but loyal pulled his other .45 and pulled the trigger twice, Richie flew and slammed to the deck, lying in a pool of blood from a dead lizard.  
  
Moonbeam smiled like he'd know it was coming all along, he stopped counting and got off his chair, Richie had copped one in the lower back, shattering his spine and another that had tore off the side of his neck, Moonbeam flipped him over onto his back and he yelled in pain and gurgled blood.  
  
Moonbeam had the strange habit of using a six-shooter when he killed up close and personal on hits, so he could hold it to his victim's head and they could admire the sandalwood grip before he blew them away.  
  
He had a colt-kingcobra in his shoulder holster, he pulled it slowly as he kicked Richie's Uzi out of reach and pointed the barrel up to Richie's eye, his voice was mocking and condescending when he spoke, "Well gee Bambi, looks like you failed the test." Richie was given a couple of seconds to compute what was said before he saw Dave squeeze the trigger.  
  
The look on what was left of Richie Cortes' face when Moonbeam pulled back was surprisingly grateful.  
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz-Wow, I am really blazing through these babies, not that you can tell from when I post, anyway drop us a review and you'll have the next one on your desk in no time, hell I've written alot of breathing space in already. 


	4. Roll The Dice And Take Your Chances

Britz-Moonbeam's been released on the Universe folks, poor Universe.  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
Dave turned away from Richie's body and to the kid and woman who survived, "Luuucy, you gots some 'splanins to doooo!" and laughed, ignoring the blood splatter on his kingcobra as he slipped it back in his shoulder holster.  
  
"Like what?" Asked the guy, he was sweating bullets.  
  
"Like why are you here for a start, this is supposed to be alien first contact." Rachel asked, the M16 hung casually by her side and both the prisoners' eyes were drawn to it.  
  
"It isn't, we've been invading for years." the kid finally stuttered under the posses hard stare, the woman looked mad as hell.  
  
"You what?" Moonbeam asked, "I ain't noticed you flying about blowing up national monuments like procedure dictates."  
  
The kid looked confused but after a moment of self-consultation he continued, "Us, the Yeerks, have been invading in secret."  
  
"Why do you look human if you're, Yeerks?" Taz asked, "What are you like the fuckin pod people?"  
  
"Not...quite." Said the woman.  
  
Moonbeam was reaching for the hilt of his colt when a light started blinking at the kids station with an annoying beeping noise, the kid turned to it almost automatically, punched at an alien keyboard and a picture of outside the ship cropped up, alien fighters were on their way.  
  
"Squadron of Bug Fighters approaching." the kid said.  
  
"Yippie-kay-yay!" Moonbeam shouted, taking the steering console again, "Saddle-up and hold onto your asses people!"   
  
The posse took seats around the bridge, shoving bodies off their seats and letting them fall like sacks of potatoes to the floor.  
  
The Blade Ship jerked forward violently and blazed towards the 'Bug fighters', Moonbeam thought the name-sake was suitable now he thought about it, Siggs manage to take out two of them as they turned for a head-on attack, more from their surprise and close grouping then anything else.  
  
There was still at least ten left, Moonbeam blazed through the midst of them, Siggs shot down another one but they were taking hits from all sides.  
  
"Put up the damn shields!" Yelled Moonbeam at the Yeerks, not even sure they had such a thing.  
  
"Shields up" a mechanical voice droned.  
  
"That's refreshing," muttered Moonbeam, "You two might be about to live out your usefulness!"  
  
"There's another weapons station open here!" Yelled Siggs, Rachel gingerly leapt over Richie's body and took it, sending a stream of blazing red lasers into space as she grabbed the controls.  
  
Even with shields up the ship jolted back and forth from laser blasts, Rachel and Siggs fired, another Bug bit the dust, a burst of semi-automatic fire came from the doorway, someone or something down the hall fired back, Roach yelled in pain, "Damnit, I thought we got all the sonsabitches!" He returned fired and something mirrored his pained yell.  
  
The red planet rushed by, it was amazing the speed they were travelling, it took space cruisers over a day to get from Earth to the colonies on Mars, "Where did the Bug ships come from?" He yelled.  
  
"There are Pool Ships waiting outside the system." The woman replied, she didn't seem scared, more like she was biding her time, staying alive so she'd have time to strike and take them all out. Not good.  
  
"Where abouts?" Moonbeam asked.  
  
"Uhh," murmured the guy, the other Yeerk gave him a subtle nod, "Coordinates 378z 2908p 514t."  
  
I'm gonna take that as 'thisaway'." Yelled Dave and continued on the way he assumed the fighters had come.  
  
"They're hiding in the shadow of the ninth planet," said the woman helpfully but with a glitter of dark thoughts in her eyes.  
  
More jolts back and forth, Siggs and Rachel took out all but three fighters and the big ball of ice that was Pluto appeared on the main screen, they'd got to the edge of the system in a little over five minutes, the fruitless mission ship sent this far by mankind had taken many months.  
  
Another fighter blew courtesy of Rachel, Moonbeam going at speeds human scientists could only dream of rounded the ninth planet, and there the invasion ships were, three of them, like gigantic bloated jellyfish.  
  
The main body was a huge sphere that was flatter at the bottom, like a basketball slowly deflating, around it were three legs, bent up then tucked back down like those of an obscene three-legged spider, hanging below were tentacles, each at least a quarter of a mile long.  
  
It looked like a giant madman's jellyfish so where was it's sting? "Fuck the fighters! Go for the big daddy's!" Dave yelled to his motley crew.  
  
A screen sprung to life not far from Taz, a lizard-creature's face appeared "In the name of the Yeerk Empire I demand to know who is piloting this ship!"  
  
Moonbeam pressed a button he assumed was an intercom, the face appeared on one of the smaller screens in front of him, "It's your worst nightmare bitch."  
  
The lizard looked taken back and flustered, "Stop your offensive immediately or you will be destroyed!"  
  
"You wanna destroy me?" Moonbeam asked, "Roll the dice and take your chances." A Jack Nicholson impression flared through both his voice and crazed eyes and he switched off the communications channel.   
  
"Boring conversation anyway." He muttered. "Balls to the wall people!" Ironically the only two controlling the craft other than him came without that anatomy attachment, which ran through his mind as he spoke, causing a secretive smile.  
  
Through concentrated fire power one of the legs of the closest Pool ship blew off, the huge ship started limping away but Rachel and Siggs kept firing, the ship still rocked back and forth from the agile Bug Fighters.  
  
The Pool Ships started blasting, going wide at first but getting closer and the Yeerk woman made her move, she lunged forwards and pulled a dial on her station, 'Shields down.' announced the ships computer, it seemed to almost have a note of boredom about this turn of events in it's mechanical voice.  
  
The space around the ship turned red and they went spinning through space, Taz, wasting no time, he shot the woman three times in the back, shredding her internal organs, blood on the shield control station as she collapsed to the ground.  
  
The Yeerk guy shrieked shrilly as they were tossed back and forth as the laser blasts, each powerful enough to turn a house into an ashy crater, pounded the ship mercilessly. Roach was thrown from the doorway, his right shoulder, already bleeding profusely from a Yeerk's gun banged against the deck and blood spurted, "Shields up!" he still managed to yell through a pained grimace.  
  
The screens cleared, they were under the wounded Pool Ship, dodging tendrils, a fighter following had no such luck and spun into one, blowing itself and the tendril to shreds, the other Pool Ships quit firing to avoid hitting their own.  
  
"Blast it!" Dave yelled to Siggs and Rach as they got up and back to their chairs, they swivelled the guns to the belly of the huge ship and fired as Moonbeam dodged and weaved.  
  
They flew out from under as the legs, almost in sync blew apart, licks of flame fired into the coldness of space, cracks like an earthquake in a B-movie thriller formed over the main body, air was sucked out along with various debris and the occasional Yeerk creature before the whole damn thing blew like every Hollywood alien space craft before it.  
  
The blast wave rattled the Blade Ship for a moment, only one fighter got away in time and while caught in a brief spin from the blast was cleaned up by Siggs.  
  
The posse cheered, the Yeerk looked horrified, huddled in a corner. "That's one down." Dave said solemnly.  
  
"You can't be serious sugah." Siggs' southern accent drawled, he just looked at her, "Damn you are serious."  
  
Moonbeam swung the ship around and went in for another pass; the Pool Ship's weren't firing, not yet, without turning his head he called to the kid, "Yeerk! This thing have like, warp drive or whatever?"  
  
The kid seemed to get the Star Trek reference without problem; it struck Dave as strange that an alien would but now wasn't the time to give a shit.  
  
"It-it has Z-space drive, that's what you want." The Yeerk told him.  
  
"If you say so kid, fire it up for a quick get away." Moonbeam told him.  
  
The Yeerk was torn, all the posse could see it, unlike his dead compadre, with her suicidal bravery to stop them, he was afraid to die and terrified of Moonbeam himself, they'd seen the same look in Richie's eyes many times before that one final spark of rebellion. "I'll, umm, I'll, where do you want the coordinates? To go, where do you want to go?"  
  
Laser blasts started slamming the shields, rocking the Blade Ship like a rowboat in heavy seas but this was not what took Moonbeam's attention, he turned very deliberately to the Yeerk, "Gee I dunno." He remarked scathingly sarcastic, "Where's nice this time of year?"  
  
"I'll, I'll set the cords myself." The kid replied nervously.  
  
Rachel and Siggs started shooting, "Good decision kid." Moonbeam said and turned back to the controls.  
  
Gaining lunatic confidence from his little experience Moonbeam pulled in terrifyingly close to the second Pool Ship, the girls scorched the surface with lasers blasts, one shot burst through and what looked like dirty water came spurting out and turning to crystal with an otherworldly beauty, Dave wondered briefly what so much water was doing in a space ship, but then it was a POOL Ship, maybe they'd just blasted through to a giant alien hot-tub.  
  
A squadron of Bug Fighters appeared behind them, the Pool ship had given up taking shots for fear of friendly fire, the fighters didn't mind, they were causing almost as much damage to the ship as the posse was.  
  
Dave swung around a leg of the ship and a badly piloted fighter ran into it, Rachel and Siggs concentrated their fire on the leg; another couple of Bug's got in the way and were demolished.  
  
The leg blew apart, the Blade Ship was caught in the outskirts of the blast, the shield station started blaring warning, they spun through space, a blast from the other Pool Ship caught them sending them into even worse a spin, the station blared louder.  
  
"Shields are down, Shields down!" Screamed the Yeerk in terror.  
  
"Prepare for z-speed." Moonbeam told him as he righted the ship.  
  
"The lever!" Yelled the Yeerk, "You gotta pull that lever!"  
  
"One last pass ladies." Moonbeam said.  
  
The Blade Ship blazed up the side of the second Pool Ship, the third, not intent with one shot kept shooting, they were getting closer but the damage went to the dying Pool Ship, blowing huge holes in their own, Moonbeam was vaguely aware that one of those laser blasts could blow them all back to Hell without the shields.  
  
Siggs and Rachel shot burning holes all up the side of the Pool ship and as a final gesture left the top of the sphere, which they hoped was the bridge, no more than a smoking crater.  
  
Moonbeam yanked the lever down, the relatively small planet Pluto grew huge in the main screen before the entire universe turned to white.   
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz-Where to now folks? Well, I already know and hell so does CB, but I'll let you find out for yourselves, I'm begging for reviews here, I won't bribe cause it's kind of empty, I got so many chaps written the next will be up in days whatever I get, but I'm still begging, that should be enough. 


	5. The Other Side Of The Rainbow

Chapter Twelve  
  
Puck felt a thrill of excitement through his half-Drac body as Moonbeam and posse ripped through into Z-space, the Pool Ship they left behind was a write-off, it's demise not as dramatic as the first but it was still no more than so much floating scrap metal, it was imploding, slowly crumbling in on itself, escape pods blazed away but not fast enough for all the Yeerks on board, frozen bodies floated from the torn sides.  
  
Puck turned to his master, "My liege, as you can see this beast is vicious, he is passionate, he wants to appease even though he does not know it."  
  
Rage rolled in Mephisto's voice like flowing lava, lethal and unstoppable. "This latest beast you display to me is but a pup in the ways of destruction, he knows naught of true power."  
  
"But he learns fast my lord." Puck's voice quivered in a way no other would ever have the pleasure of hearing, "He wants to learn, destruction is his passion and is a creature of such passion that it makes him unstoppable."  
  
"You are struggling my servant, you have failed me too many times and have begun clutching at straws." Mephisto rumbled.  
  
"It is not my fault!" Puck cried, "That meddling Orff! He's the reason for your displeasure my lord."   
  
"DO YOU DEFY MY WORD?" Mephisto's voice was earth shaking; mortal hearts would burst at the smallest rumbling of that bass level.  
  
"No, no of course not my lord!" Puck squealed, "I beg your mercy!"  
  
"As I am a benevolent master," The air grew thick with unspoken irony, "I will give you yet another chance, but fail me not Quinz or the consequence will be more horrible than you imagine, life and death will gain new meaning for you."  
  
"I will not fail you again my lord." Puck told him quickly, "I have a, a good feeling about this one."  
  
Chapter Thirteen  
  
The light glared into the Yeerk's host eyes, "Well gee Taz, sounds like he's holding out on us wouldn't you say?"  
  
The Yeerk's left eye was swelled, it'd be a hell of a black eye if he got to live long enough "What are you talking about? I've answered everything you asked!"   
  
"Damnit man! Don't play games with me!" Yelled Dave and he backhanded the Yeerk, sending him to the floor.  
  
Actually the chicken shit alien had been very helpful, they now knew the basics of the ship, including how to access more knowledge, incredibly useful, the lizards were 'Hork-Bajir' apparently, the bugs were 'Taxxon's' and the Yeerks...  
  
The Yeerk's were slugs. They took over bodies, made the real owners slaves in their own mind, and took the bodies as hosts, without any bond money down.  
  
They'd be invading for years now, in secret, taking humans left and right and nobody had noticed, pretty sweet operation but to damn slow, at least to slow for this 'Yeerk Empire' and so open warfare was to be declared, the alien ambassador, 'first contact' was just a ploy to get the Pool Ships deep into the system, where they could take the human race with as little trouble as possible.  
  
They'd killed the head of the movement, Visser Three, who'd been fighting for open warfare for years apparently, poor dumb bastard, all that trouble and he got his head blown off as soon as he steps out of his ship.  
  
"I'll tell you anything you want, please just let me feed." The Yeerk begged, Moonbeam turned away in unmasked disgust, this alien in human body would sell out its race so it could 'feed', pathetic.  
  
Another fascinating tit-bit they'd found was that the Yeerk's must feed every three days in a 'Yeerk pool' from some weird radiation in the water or they'd die, this Yeerk's situation wasn't desperate yet but it was shit-scared and wanted out of his host.  
  
Moonbeam gestured out the window to the blank nothingness of Z-space, "I just wanna see what's on the other side of the rainbow first." His whole face twitched around a sickly amused expression when he talked.  
  
The kid's face visibly paled, Moonbeam wondered if the Yeerk inside that pre-teen head could have controlled it if he'd been in the right frame of mind, it wasn't very comforting, 'approaching Taxxis' the computer chimed in.  
  
The pure white melted away into regular space, a planet loomed ahead, an ugly and desolate looking world even from this distance. There was a ship in front of them, something unknown that looked like one of those tridents that the Roman gladiators had in ancient times  
  
Siggs still sat at her station, Rachel and Roach had gone to make sure the rest of the ship was completely slug-free, so far so good, "Anyone else got an ominous feelin' about this?" She asked.  
  
As if preluded by her commentary a face of one of those ugly centipedes appeared onscreen, "Unssscedualed ship." Hissed the Taxxon, "Identify yoursselvessss or ssuffer the conssssequencesssss. You have ssixty ssssecondsss."  
  
Moonbeam turned to the Yeerk with an air of quiet calm despite the circumstance, "This doesn't bode well for you slug."  
  
"I'll set new cords! Neutral territory!" Screeched the Yeerk as Moonbeam pulled his gun.  
  
"Forty ssecondsss." Counted the Taxxon.  
  
Moonbeam gestured with his gun to the Yeerk's station, his fingers flew across the keys.  
  
"Hey there, this is Morris Day and the Time, we'll be here till Thursday, to whom am I speaking?"  
  
"Not undersstood, repeat transssmmisssssion."  
  
"Z-space drive is ready!" Cried the Yeerk.  
  
Moonbeam turned to Siggs, "Prepare to fire." He said, she gave a mocking salute with a Marlboro burning between her fingers.  
  
He turned back and opened channel, "I said, shove it up your hissing arse bug-ugly." He motioned to Siggs and she opened fire on the smaller scout ship.  
  
The beams lanced up the body of the Trident Ship, rather foolishly not protected by shields, the body cracked and spears of light ripped through the engines, it blew, sending debris spiralling through space.  
  
"They'll send fighters!" Yelled the Yeerk but somewhere between 'send' and 'fighters' Moonbeam had punched the ship into the blankness of Z-space.  
  
"Well, looks like we got another trouble-making slug on our hands." Commented Dave.  
  
"Simple enough problem." Taz muttered.  
  
Siggs leapt from her chair and pulled a switchblade from the pocket of her jeans, ivory handle and a glittering 4-inch blade, "Yeah but we can take our time with this one."  
  
"Please no," said the Yeerk, "I'll tell you everything."  
  
And he did, in the process he unwittingly made himself a useless member of the team, explaining how the posse could use the ship's computer, giving them full control of the Blade Ship and all the universal info they could ever want.  
  
Nose dripping blood that ran over his lips, two black eyes, and a cheek laid open by knife wound the Yeerk begged to be allowed to feed.  
  
Moonbeam told him with an air of innocence that under the watchful air of the posse he could feed, (Rachel and Roach had finished their sweep of the ship, everything was dead) the Yeerk went into the pool room and knelt at a pool of murky sludge, they could see little creatures, slug's the size of rats swimming below the surface.  
  
The host knelt and put his head by the water, "My host is voluntary." the Yeerk said, "And terrified of you, do not worry about restraining him." All very matter-of-fact till the barrel ground the back of his head, "Oh, no."   
  
"Bye slug." was the last thing he heard before the top of his head blew cleanly off. The body collapsed into the pool, scattering the slugs in confusion, haemorrhaging blood mixed with the molten lead water.  
  
"What you want us to do with him?" Roach rasped, his sleeve was covered in blood and drying streaks ran down his arm but he didn't seem to care.  
  
"Flush the whole fucking lot of them into space." Moonbeam said offhandedly, "Roach, go to the med-bay, there are 'healing tanks' there or some shit, the computer will heal ya."  
  
"Aye aye." Roach agreed, rubbing at the bloody arm subconsciously.  
  
Chapter Fourteen  
  
The whiteness of Z-space gave way to normal space as Moonbeam stared majestically out the Bridge window, an outside viewer might have compared his noble stance to Patton, or Washington as he crossed the Delaware.  
  
Nothingness in a million miles in each direction, an endless, awe-inspiring view, stars glittered like diamonds many light years from where he now stood, a blood-red nebula drifted into view, millions of light years away.  
  
The Contents of the Pool gushed from the ship, crystallised water entrapping Yeerks and the dead human host who never had a say in his fate.  
  
An airlock back in the ship opened and spewed more bodies into the space, Hork-Bajir, Taxxon and even Human corpses joined infinity, they'd been collected and unceremoniously piled in an airlock to be ejected.  
  
"Computer, any civilised colonies in this sector?"  
  
"No, the closest civilisation is a small grouping on the moon of Menschu."  
  
"What's it like?" Dave asked.  
  
"Sector under dispute, no-go area for Yeerk or Andalite forces, artificial colony, bad reputed for smuggling and theft, high crime rate, casinos, population comes and goes, average is.."  
  
Dave cut him off, "Take us there." It sounded like his kind of place.  
  
"As you wish." Said the neutral computer voice, not judgemental of its new masters or what had happened to it's old.  
  
The Blade Ship jetted off and disappeared from normal space, leaving it's drifting graveyard behind.  
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz-Well folks, shoot us a review, I'm working on something a little different at the moment so I'm warning you, no reviews means it'll be a while till I get around to the next chap. 


	6. We Don't Need That Kind Of Scum

Britz-Well I did mean to have this up sooner but the mind of an artist is a fickle and forgetful one, good news is I'm way ahead for Moonbeam.  
  
Chapter Fifth teen  
  
Quick as an Andalite's tail the human 'Posse' had struck, killed the highly respected and feared Visser Three in charge of the invasion of Earth, stolen his Blade Ship and taken out two-thirds of the first wave invasion force, then... Disappeared  
  
The Council was outraged, the masses of the Yeerk Empire cried for blood but the human attackers had not been seen since their brief appearance over Taxxis, where they blew up a Lancer-class ship on guard and disappeared once more into the endless possibilities of Z-space.  
  
Efflit 1318 just felt, boned, yes boned in the human slang, his host agreed, the attack was terrible of course, thousands of his fellow Yeerk's gone in one unexpected swoop, never mind the fact that Visser 3's death and to a lesser extent the death of Sub-Visser 8 had led to his new position as Visser 27.  
  
Actually he was becoming less happy about the promotion by the minute, for staters he wasn't sure this human body was an 'upgrade' from his Sstram host, and just when he'd gotten used to using the claws instead of hands. The host was tall, dark and handsome by human standards, strong enough but not compared to a Sstram, this host was voluntary, a relief compared to the strong-willed rebellious Sstram, but annoying, a whiny, egotistical human with the dress sense of a gay male prostitute (not knowing any better Efflit had kept the tight jeans and leather overcoat look.)  
  
But the major.. pain in his ass, was this Moon Beam Posse (as the human's had reported, few still felt doubts that this wasn't the same legendary posse who had been 'killed' assassinating President-elect Governor William Clinton.) as the Council demanded he was in charge of finding this David Moonbeam and his posse responsible for the human system attack.  
  
'Man this blows, fuckin', can we go back to Earth now?' whined the host, Efflit ignored him.  
  
It was time to greet his guests.  
  
Chapter Sixteen  
  
The bridge of the Judicator, flagship of Visser 27, was filled with a tension so thick it was suffocating, like a dense gas that would choke them all, it was concentrated on the dangerous and vicious figures of the Bounty Hunters who had taken up the offer to track down Moonbeam and his posse.  
  
Admiral Pietta, flanked by the ship's Captain Niloc 021, stared at them with hatred so open it glared from his Human host's face like an open wound, "Bounty Hunters," he growled at Niloc, "We don't need that kind of scum." Niloc nodded eagerly, his Hork Bajir head bobbing ridiculously.  
  
Despite the air of tension and the looks they drew the Hunters looked relaxed, alert but not expecting trouble, it wasn't uncommon for Bounty Hunters to work for the Empire, tracking down particularly cunning lost hosts, gunning after troublesome key enemies, this was just another job to them and that's why Pietta felt such open hatred for them.  
  
A fiercely patriotic Yeerk he would fight, kill, and die for the good of the Empire, that was his cause, the very centre of his being, Bounty Hunters had no such qualms about who they killed or why, just that they got paid a decent amount for doing their ruthless job.  
  
First in the line was Raanglock, a moderately competent Roppiss Bounty Hunter who'd hit big with a lucky hit on a Sultan on some outer-rim piss-ant world, either way the hit had earned him plenty, terrified of death Raanglock had spent a good amount of money on an assassin droid that could have his personality and mind transferred into upon his death, which came mere months later.  
  
Such custom droids were worth a pretty credit, but it was worth every bit as far as he was concerned, his body was now a robotic form not unlike an adult Roppiss, four arms, three legs and a long whip like tail, only now much deadlier, it was filled with hidden weapons. Raanglock watched the scene unfolding with a single scanning eye.  
  
A Leeran, Mu-Chin, carried a spear gun loaded with thousands of venom-tipped darts, capable of killing a victim in seconds, as well as an Andalite Shredder as a side arm, a vicious and deadly hunter shunned by his own peaceful species. The Leeran gift of reading minds was not wasted on him; he was very accomplished at using it to anticipate his Bounty's attacks before they knew they were making them.  
  
Mace Corleone, a Dracyer Alpha Male was next in line, Dracyer's were a race of creatures that looked like werewolves on steroids, the head of a wolf and a body like a gorilla with excellent posture covered in a short brown fur, their legs also resembled a wolf's hind legs, much stronger than a humans and capable of jumping many times the Dracyer's own height.   
  
Mace's barrel chest and furry slabs of biceps were covered by a rather stylish grey silk suit, thrown off only by the long tentacles, that in shape bore a resemblance to a squids dominant ones, they were crossed across his chest like two furry belts of ammunition, looping over his waist and continuing to crawl up his back. Mace was on the run from the mafia family he used to belong to back on his home planet, his eyes, startlingly soft lavender when compared to the rest of him, scanned the room with great caution, there was a very sizable bounty on his own head.  
  
Next a Na, Sna Quarren, he held a massive Drac-Pike, that would send currents of Dracon energy into a target like a devilish cattle prod, or could shoot a short range stream to disable an enemy, on his sides where two heavy Dracon Pistols. Na's were not a naturally threatening looking race (much like how many Yeerk's viewed humans) and such a heavily armed hard-ass Na was almost humorous, almost. In a situation Roach could have related to Sna was grim death in a smaller than orthodox package  
  
Jupiter Dranz, a towering Fornsmith leaned against the wall, looking almost sleepy and clearly bored, all six of his eyes, large red, medium blue and small green watched the bridge with disinterest, the eyes, pair by pair went up his head that tapered to a point, he was a humanoid, almost human looking in fact except for the eyes and cone-head but a giant of a human.  
  
Although only of average size for a Fornsmith Jupiter stood an easy 8-foot and from a human point-of-view looked unnaturally broad, like an American Football player wearing enormous shoulder pads, his right arm was covered in tattoos, small skulls of different species, at least forty, representing some of his bounty's, those who had put up the best fights. Other trophies, ears and teeth mostly hung from his hunting vest.  
  
Shardik Topeka, Son of Mullas Fanswar, was the last in line. He was a Gaft, a fiercely traditional warrior species who bore a distinct resemblance to an Earth Grizzly Bear standing upright. His battle gear was ancient; as was the sword at his side but in such good keep their age was impossible to guess. Shardik's chest and belt held a large number of blades, some mostly decorative, throwing knives, others as big and vicious as small swords, a huge harpoon-style spear was at his back and a tek-bow was his side arm.  
  
As Piette walked past the unsightly rabble a furred tentacle slipped over his shoulders, he stiffened as it dragged him closer to Mace, a expensive Dracyer cigar, at least a foot long jutted from his muzzle, ash dripped from the end of it onto the admiral's spit-shined boots.  
  
"Maybe you should get to know me better," The hulking Dracyer reasoned, "I ain't such a bad guy." With that the tentacle slithered away and Mace blew smoke from his nostrils into Pietta's face, he grinned a huge toothy smile that exposed a vicious set of canines. The admiral made his get away as dignified yet quickly as he could, Mace growled a deep chuckle.  
  
Visser 27 stalked into the room, coat fluttering behind him like a cape, "Gentlemen, there will be a substantial reward for whoever finds the human David Moonbeam and his 'Posse' I want them alive, but, accidents happen, they are worth decidedly less to both you and me dead."  
  
He paced back and forth the line as if deep in thought, "At the very least I want a corpse for the Empire, heads on a silver platter." He turned to Jupiter and pointed menacingly, "No disintegrations."  
  
The lumbering Fornsmith waved a hand dismissively, "Yeah yeah, whatever the fuck."  
  
"Yo, Visser." Mace yelled, "You might have a different idea of substantial than the rest of us, how much?"  
  
"Five hundred thousand Imperial Credits and sanctuary on a planet of your choice." Efflit replied.  
  
"We were promised 10 million on the YNN!" Yelled the robotic Roppiss.  
  
"Not by me." Was the Visser's cold reply, "That was mere propaganda, I have altered it."  
  
There was a collection of grumbling, Jupiter had agreed to the hunt for the fame not the money, Mace sucked at his cigar, he needed the money, he'd never lost a bounty, but hadn't been in the game long enough for that to be an impressive statistic or a big earning point.  
  
"Gentlemen, happy hunting." Said the Visser and he dismissed them.  
  
Chapter Seventeen  
  
The boy watched his father strike his mother again and again, at seven he did not understand that this was wrong, it was a normal thing for him, he played with his toy cars, driving them around the maroon stains in the carpet, dried blood his mother had been to laid up to clean in time.  
  
"You cock-sucking whore! Don't think I don't know! Don't think I don't know about him!" His father screamed manically, he back-handed the screaming, bleeding woman, her back connected with a kitchen counter and she fell to the ground, weeping.  
  
"Please Jerry, I don't, I don't know what you're talking about!" She cried.  
  
"Bullshit!!" He yelled and kicked in her stomach, his hand, almost working of it's own accord found the butchers knife, lying on the kitchen table.  
  
It's blade was greasy looking but still gleamed in the naked bulb of the kitchen light, the child felt a worry in him that was beyond his years and admittedly not great mental facilities (he was slow, even for a seven year-old, having no real schooling, a waste of his fathers drinking money.)  
  
His father reached down and grabbed a clump of his mothers hair, she moaned but never saw the blade coming, he hacked across her throat, blood spewed from the cut, blood gurgled out of her mouth, her nose, a pool of thick red liquid flowed freely and grew till it covered the kitchen floor.  
  
His father knelt by her, blood soaking through the knees of his pants, taking in what he had just done, finally he spat on her cheek, "Fuckin' two-timing slut." He said defiantly and he walked out of the room, passing his son as if he was part of the scenery.  
  
The boy crawled over to her, she was dead but still warm, he cuddled against her, the coppery smell of her blood rode through his nostrils, "Mommy? Mommy?" He was not worried yet, it was not the first time his mother had not been able to get up after one of his parents arguments.  
  
But he was slipping in her life-blood, he could smell the death coming off her, and now there was something wrong with her neck, a second mouth, toothless and gaping, an obscene smile drooling blood.  
  
The child lifted his hand to his face and looked at the blood on it, he streaked it down one cheek, it was coming to him now, his mommy was never going to get up again.  
  
He reached for the butcher's knife, left where his father had dropped it after performing his gruesome deed, somewhere; deep in his mind he knew what he had to do with it.  
  
Yes, he knew what had to be done now.  
  
But a tugging as the ship went from Z-space and into normal space above the casino-riddled moon of Menschu woke Moonbeam from his slumber, that and a hand on his thigh.  
  
Siggs stood above him, he had fallen asleep in the Captains chair, "Thought you might like a little morning delight sugah." She smiled seductively.  
  
Moonbeam wasn't in the mood, he pushed her away without a word spoken, she looked dismayed but didn't protest.  
  
A dream, a sick dream, blood, and death, but not in the normal good way. Moonbeam got a vague feeling of deja vu, he'd had the dream before, he was sure of it, but in time it faded, it always faded, already the memory of the dream was sinking deep back in his mind from where it had risen, plotting to attack again when Moonbeam was weak and unaware.  
  
The repulsion faded, the smell of blood lingered briefly, "I'm hungry." Moonbeam announced, "What's for breakfast?"   
  
"Well I was thinking of having a tasty course of testosterone if you'd oblige, just.." Siggs remarked mock innocent, Dave cut her off, continuing as if he wasn't aware she was talking, or even there.  
  
"I feel like steak" he remarked, "rare, rare and bloody."  
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz-Now this next one I'll have up tomorrow I should think, hell I got enough space and I wanna start forcing myself to write, let the fic catch up on me while I write in advance and not the shit in the right order, anyway what do you care? Review! 


	7. It's Been A While Since My Last Good Ana...

Britz-Told you this would be up quick, enjoy.  
  
Chapter Eighteen  
  
Time passed, as it inevitably did, and after 16 standard days the Moon Beam Posse blazed from the makeshift colony of Mos Menschu in their newly named Blade Ship, The Phoenix, they had risen from the ashes and so would their ship, the ashes that were once proud Empires.  
  
Behind them they left several robbed casino's (one of which now burned to the ground), a dead bounty hunter, a crater where a cantina once was, a gypped spacecraft mechanic, good times and an amusing anecdote about Taz and a replicant-droid brothel.  
  
Business was slow.  
  
The ship had been repaired; those unshielded attacks had taken their blow. They had gotten all the supplies they needed food-wise; amazingly amongst the looting of electrics and clothes, booze and cigarettes for the trip they'd forgotten food, actually not terribly amazing considering the posse. They'd collected a fair-sized pile of stolen credits that should do them nicely for a little while.  
  
The bounty hunter had been a nice change of pace, about a week ago a robotic bounty hunter tracked them down, four-armed three-legged bastard, it was a nice little shoot out in a rather elegant casino, no injuries to the posse and the robot had been crushed under a chandelier the size of a mini-bus.  
  
The posse knew they were bounty by then, the first guy was just some local hood who saw them in a bar and started screaming about 10 million credits, he had two-dozen bullets in him before he could pull out his Dracon beam.  
  
But Moonbeam was most pleased with the new addition to the ship, it wasn't a new weapon system, the ship's Dracon cannon's and proton torpedoes would suffice, it wasn't the newer living conditions, Hork Bajir and Visser quarters updated to something more liveable for humans.  
  
No it was the Yeerk Pool they'd flushed, now a hot tub.  
  
"Now this is the life." He told Rachel, sitting across from his in the bubbling warm water, he downed a shooter of Ganswar, a curious shooter drink that tasted like Tequila mixed with guacamole dip.  
  
Rachel grinned, it was nice but she couldn't stop thinking of those slugs, the ones that swum beneath the surface like drowned rats, something rubbed her leg and she almost shrieked, thinking it was one of them.  
  
But it was Dave's foot, rubbing against her leg, she looked to him, the look in his eyes and forgot the swimming Yeerk's, now frozen and floating forever millions of light years behind them.  
  
He sidled over, fingers like steel bands gripped her left thigh, he kissed her roughly, the same way he had as the bullet wounds in his chest bled him to his short-lived death, his free hand slipped the string of her bikini slowly down her shoulder.  
  
Dave had never asked consent with her, she knew what her answer would have been and so did he she supposed but it was aggressive all the same, he would take at her like a Neanderthal having his way with whatever woman he damn-well choose.  
  
She was surprised and outraged when she found she had a reputation as a slag back in Utopia, Moonbeam was the only man she'd ever 'been' with, well, intercourse at least.  
  
He went for the neck, and his hands worked their way up her leg, she could feel the almost supernatural strength working in the ropy muscles of his forearm. Her nails scratched down his back as they sunk beneath the bubbling waves.  
  
In the bridge Roach was at the helm, autopilot took care of the flying but Moonbeam insisted on someone at the controls at all the times, Roach pulled the lever and they jumped into Z-space.  
  
"So where we headed darlin'?" Siggs asked, her shift was over but she hung at his back like a bad reputation.  
  
"Skrit Na home world, Concord Dawn." Replied Roach, "Little motherfuckers who looked like your traditional anal-prober, their place."  
  
"Great." She coughed and lit up a cigarette, "It's been a while since my last good anal probe." She pumped her hips into the back of his chair as she said it.  
  
He didn't bother replying, she rubbed her head against the top of his, affectionate and cat-like, "Roach baby I'm boooored."  
  
"Read the computer info, maybe you'll find something useful in there, like class." Roach rasped.  
  
"Fuck the damn computer info." Declared the southern red-head, "I read all the shit I ever need to know about the fucking, mating rituals of the Hork Bajir or the goddamn, simple at home droid repair." Her hands stroked at his shoulders.  
  
"And here I thought you'd never get tired of those how to fuck as a lizard diagrams."  
  
"Like you can see anything in them." she said dismissively.  
  
"Watch a movie, Glangarrg worked out how to put the DVD player in." Roach suggested.  
  
"You're a bitch Roach."  
  
"I learned from the mistress."  
  
"Love ya sugah."  
  
"Right back at'cha."  
  
Siggs skipped from the room, maybe off to hit on Taz, it wouldn't get her anywhere, the guy was weird, almost looking at sex as a physical need, a chore, not to do with the pleasure of the act, he'd stolen a replicant-droid from one of many brothels in Mos Menschu and was happy enough with that it seemed, remarkable technology though Roach thought.  
  
He turned back to the long-range scanners, not that they did much good in the emptiness of Z-space, just trying to ignore the raging hard-on lurking beneath the console top.  
  
Damn sultry bitch.  
  
Chapter Nineteen  
  
His father had been in the shower for nearly an hour now, scrubbing and cursing, when the water finally stopped and he walked from the bathroom with a towel wrapped round his waist his skin was red and raw, the top layer missing, "Gotta pack, gotta pack, gotta fuckin' pack." He repeated like a mantra.  
  
He stopped dead when he saw the kid staring at him, for once in the child's short life he bothered to notice the little shit that he saw as a drain on his money and nothing more, if it hadn't been for the kids mother he would've beaten the little bastard to death in a drunken frenzy by now.  
  
It wasn't the blood smeared down his face and clothes that stopped him, or the hands hidden behind his back, it was the animal cunning in the kid's eyes that watched the man who murdered his mother from the shadows.  
  
"What do you want you little shit?" He wanted his voice as cold and commanding as ever but the words held no power, they stammered over each other in nervous stumbles, for in the first time in a life of drugs and drinking, fighting and jail time Jerry felt real fear, running like ice water through his blood.  
  
"You heard me you little cunt, you're not my problem anymore, you're not even mine, HE told me so."   
  
The child lunged entirely without hesitation at his father, he never saw him coming till the blade swung around waist-high, the child wanted that gaping second mouth, but he had to bring him down first.  
  
His father screamed as the first wave of agony hit him, his eyes bulged till the kid felt sure they would pop from his eye sockets completely, "My cock!!" He bellowed, "You.."  
  
"Cut my fuckin cock off!" Moonbeam's head slammed against his pillow, back in his big, new, comfy and slightly damp bed, the hot tub, that was it, him and Rachel were in the hot tub so the bed was wet, for a moment he'd thought his bed was drenched in blood. Rach, naked and still sleeping rubbed against him, okay not all hot tub water but it still wasn't blood, she wasn't that kind of girl.  
  
"Dave? Dave we're approaching the Skrit Na world." Taz's voice announced from the intercom by his bed.   
  
Moonbeam slammed a hand on the transmit button. "Yeah yeah." He yawned, "We'll be right there."  
  
"Identify yourselves, declare your cargo and your point of origin." said the bored Na voice.  
  
"This is Blade Ship 'The Phoenix', our cargo is none of your fucking business, our point of origin isn't your problem." Taz replied.  
  
A moment of faint white noise, "You're free to enter Skrit Na airspace, land at docking bay 14-F." Taz continued down towards the planet, wondering briefly when the Na he had talked to lost his interest in the secretive nature of the many ships he must deal with.  
  
His landing was perfect, the ship settled like a feather on the concrete flor of docking bay 14-F, "Alright gang we're here." He announced over the ship's intercom.  
  
When Moonbeam and Rach got there, showered and clothed the others were waited patiently like good posse underlings, smoking and throwing conversation back and forth, "About fuckin' time." Roach told them as they entered.  
  
"We off?" Siggs asked as she took her booted feet off the scuffed console, she was wearing combat boots laced with multi-coloured laces, hard-ass and little girl combined.  
  
"Yeah kids, lets check the scene." Dave grinned.  
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz-Review, and there shall be more, I assure you it only gets more violent from here and faster, is it me or has the fic been going somewhere slow so far? Well it's speeding up soon to, they've got a whole lot of universe to get around after all. 


	8. Looking For A Good Time?

Chapter Twenty  
  
The posse walked the streets of Concord Dawn and felt at home with the dozens of alien species that passed them by.  
  
This grease ball planet of neon commercialisation was just like home in the ghetto's of Utopia, a robotic cop hassled a four armed purple creature about dealing 'Silmarillion', a group of waist-high Nas rapped in an alley, replicant-droid hookers propositioned passer-bys at every street corner, changing their holograms each time to suit the differing species.  
  
"Hey there cruiser pilot, looking for a good time?" The holographic figure was unmistakable, Halle Berry smiled at them from the sidewalk, the form shivered, showing the real droid for a moment, a floating metal orb the size of a fist, the hooker was now Peg Bundy from 'Married With Children' "Come and get it lover."  
  
"Any guys in your repertoire?" Siggs inquired, Peg Bundy shifted into Russel Crowe decked out in Gladiator gear.  
  
"Baby you wanna rustle my crow?" It asked in a thick Australian accent.  
  
"Ooh, can you start with one then the other?" Siggs asked her, "Cause baby I'll reroot your hard drive till you overload."  
  
Dave and the others continued on their way, "Come along whore of Microsoft," Roach called. "Christ girl you've got issues"   
  
"Call me." she made a phone motion at her ear and continued with the others.  
  
They strode through the cantina doors and conversation slowed as the collection of strange creatures inside turned and look to them, Na, Yeerk, Dracyer, Leeran, Nephran, Andalite, Roppiss all stared at the new arrivals like Clint Eastwood strutting through the swinging saloon doors in any old stereotyped Western, the only ones ignorant were a group of one-minded Skrit playing a simple card game in the back corner.  
  
Moonbeam strode up to the bar, "Ganswar shooters, five glasses and leave the bottle along with some Hawjawbra ale, make it piss-warm and spicy."  
  
"Um, yar yeah sure." Replied the old scarred Na behind the bar, he was nervous and almost jittery, their reputation preceded them.  
  
They sat and drunk for a long while, the other patrons went about their business, smoked some local drug, the same stuff the cop was hassling the purple guy about, Silmarillion, Dave thought, played some cards and watched a game of 'Ironclad Foozball' a fascinating cross between Gridiron football and ancient Rome's gladiatorial combat, A group of Nephran's cheered as one of their kind whacked a javelin through a Dracyer's chest and stole the Fooz.  
  
Moonbeam must admit it was the only time anything like Gridiron had held his attention for more than a play, the Nephran's booed and threw beer nuts when the stabbed Dracyer pulled the javelin from his chest and hurled it through his attacker, allowing a team mate to take the Fooz, a bunch of Dracyer's laughed hoarsely and cheered.  
  
After about an hour as the posse talked to some aliens who didn't seem to give a shit about the bounty or their rep a hulking Nephran strutted over.  
  
The average height of a Nephran was about 6 foot, maybe a little over, this one towered at a little over 7 and while most had the athletic build of a swimmer this guy looked like a weightlifter.  
  
Nephran's reminded Dave of 'The Creature from the Black Lagoon' Their skin was smooth and smurf-blue (a little off-setting when confronted by one) broken by the occasional fin, wings not intended for flying but to assist with swimming sprouted from their shoulders. Their head looked like a particularly mean sea bass had simply been balanced on their shoulders; little side fins were actually ears and what looked like a fish tail poked out the back like a ponytail.  
  
The face was cruel, sharp teeth poked from the jutting bottom jaw, beady yellow eyes that could see surprisingly well in all conditions. The posse had read their whole A&E biography as the Yeerk's were currently trying to take the Nephran species as hosts, amphibian's that lived as happily in the water as on land, able to change the colour of their skin at will, fierce fighters that had waged war against their planet's equally fierce environment and each other for millennia, they were having very limited success at taking them.  
  
"So this is the Moon Beam Posse the Yeerks are all after huh?" His voice was like a gruff construction worker with a nose block.  
  
"What's it to you?" Moonbeam asked, the Skrit waiter brushed past the looming Nephran with another order of complementary ale, the Nephran grabbed a mug off the tray and chugged half of it before continuing.  
  
"You're worth a lot to me and MY posse." He replied, Moonbeam looked over to the Nephran's watching the Foozball, they waved their hands with gusto to protest 'not them!'  
  
"Where is your posse might I ask?" Rachel asked him.  
  
"All around you." Replied the Nephran after another sip of ale.  
  
A couple of Nephran's started to advance from the right, a Dracyer and two Roppiss' from the left.  
  
"Suppose we'll have to settle this like gentlemen." Moonbeam said, he signalled for the posse and they went for their guns, the Nephran's posse went for theirs. Within the blink of an eye the bar had turned into a battlefield.  
  
Taz shot at the Roppisses with a matching pair of .45's, one went down and blew a hole in the ceiling with his Dracon beam.  
  
Roach and Siggs pulled out MiniUzi's, flipped over the table and started shooting at the two advancing Nephran, one copped it in the knees, his partner flipped another table and shot back, they looked at each and picked up the table, using it as a shield as they ran, not much of a shield against Dracon weapons, there was hardly any of it left by the time they got to the Nephran's but it did it's job, Siggs rammed one leg into the chest on the Nephran with his knees shot out, both blew away the other before he could bring his weapon round.  
  
The patrons of the bar were going batshit, Rachel blasted away with her MiniUzi at the Dracyer, it kept shooting and coming, she thought about the one playing Ironclad ripping the javelin from it's chest and wondered would the fucking thing ever go down? Finally with more than a half-dozen bullets in it's chest it stumbled back, fired a wild shot that just happened to blast one of the mindlessly stupid Skrit still playing cards and died.  
  
Moonbeam meanwhile didn't even bother going for his Rugar, he attacked the leading Nephran with his fists, surprise etched on that sour fish face, two of it's sharp bottom teeth went flying.  
  
A clumsy arm with muscles bulging beneath it's smooth blue skin flew around and Moonbeam caught it by the wrist, he grabbed the bicep and broke the Nephran's arm with a sick snapping sound.  
  
The Nephran's was bewildered by all this it seem, his right arm hung uselessly at an odd angle, Dave punched a hook to his jaw and it broke like brittle wood beneath his fist.  
  
It stumbled, swiped pointlessly with it's left, Dave ploughed a final fist into it's rib cage, the skin broke, the ribs below it shattered, shards of bone flying deep into the Nephran's internal organs, as luck would have it penetrating both it's hearts.  
  
The creature smashed to the floor, bright yellow blood squirted upwards for a moment and slowed to a dribble, all the bar was in silence, Dave reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of cash and threw it on top of the bar that the old Na was now peeking over.  
  
"For the mess." He said and the posse walked from the cantina, stepping over a broken Roppiss on their way.  
  
Outside was dark and lit by street lights now, the city was more alive than ever, Dave wiped off his hand smeared with Nephran blood, Roach and Siggs lit cigarettes, Taz tucked his .45's into his waistband and stood there, silent as a statue.  
  
"You know folks." Said Moonbeam finally, "This crazy Universe is just our sort of town."  
  
"Amen." Roach rasped and the posse continued off into the night.  
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz-Ug, I hate that ending, but I couldn't think of anything else, and the chapter's to short, ah to hell with it I'll have the next chap up soon enough, lot of violence in that one, and things start getting a move on after that. 


	9. A Shot Rang Out, As Shots Are Wont To Do

Chapter Twenty-One  
  
Moonbeam had always been a rebel without any cause other than destruction, it had made him the cancer of Utopia, it had gotten him resurrected from the grave by a demon who saw potential and it had allowed him to blaze his way across the galaxy to Concord Dawn, home to millions of alien species passing by, the greasy truck stop of the Universe, a planet-wide Las Vegas.   
  
So what is there to do for a rebellious teen away from home? Get a tattoo.  
  
It was the idea half-formed in his mind when he'd shoved the posse inside the taxi-craft this morning, they had stolen credits to blow, why not do something to bring the happy family closer?  
  
The closest was a little place between replicant brothel and a greasy fast food restaurant for plant life forms, it looked liked any other human tattoo parlour in the system to him, extravagant designs filled the dirty windows.   
  
Inside was the same story, tattoo designs covered every wall, grungy in a colourful kind of way, just clean enough to pass government regulations, the tattoo artist was the big difference compared to any in the human system, a bright red octopus-like creature easily the size of a human; it had dozens of tentacles, some thick as human thighs, others longer and whip-like.  
  
Near the top of the bulbous body area was a huge mouth filled with clean straight teeth that looked like a horse's only larger, three light orange eyes with a slit of sky-blue in each read the newspaper he was holding, two very small horns jutted from his forehead.  
  
He bore one distinctive mark of a tattoo artist no matter the species, he was highly decorated himself, strange designs ran down his bulk, bleeding skulls and burning dice, alien women in suggestive poses, the word MOM inside a heart decorated the top of his left dominant tentacle.  
  
He spotted them after a moment and swallowed what looked like a mouthful of seaweed-jerky, "What can do you for?" It rumbled, the creature's voice was bowel-tremblingly deep.  
  
"Name's David Moonbeam, want some tattoos for me and for my posse."  
  
"Ratnim-Sculuck-Broadback, you've come to the right place, got something in mind?"  
  
When Moonbeam had left he had, the symbol he'd used briefly for the Moon Beam Posse during his first shot at life, a human skull inset by a crescent moon symbol, but like many things it had now seemingly slipped his sieve-like memory by.  
  
"We'll just look a..." He started to say when he saw the barcode symbol; it was nothing special certainly, just a black and white barcode being licked by cartoon flames, "That one." He pointed to it without thought.  
  
Ratnim's eyes followed the finger to the barcode, "Heh heh." He growled a laugh, "That's usually a droid tattoo, reads 666 under their scanners." This didn't seem to make an impression of any sort on Moonbeam; his posse backed him, impassive looks on each face. "Alright what difference it make? Dats the one you want sure thing."  
  
A minute later Dave was sitting on a large white table with his shirt off, Ratmin was holding a small electric device that looked like a cross between a fountain pen and a very tiny harpoon, "Where you want it?"  
  
"Here." Moonbeam clapped the side of his right bicep, "Same for them." There were no objections, Ratmin thought the whole set up was a little weird himself but kept quiet and went to work.  
  
The alien tattooing process didn't hurt, it itched like steel wool being brushed lightly against the skin but didn't feel anything like the human method, confirmed by Taz, Roach and Siggs who all had tattoos already.  
  
"I didn't know you had one." Roach rasped to Siggs, "Where is it?"  
  
"Bet you'd love to know." Siggs teased.  
  
"You show me yours I'll show you mine."  
  
Siggs was the last and Ratmin finished up when the towering Fornsmith lumbered through the door and bellowed for Broadback.  
  
He was a conehead was what Moonbeam noticed with quite some amusement, like in that comedy with Dan Ackroyd, Only this one was the Hulk Hogan of all Coneheads, about 8-foot tall and so broad he had to go through the door sideways.  
  
A grey beard went with a human mouth and nose but the eyes, he had six, where a human's would be bulged red globes the size of tennis balls, a little further up the cone of his head glittered blue eyes that looked like rare gems and near the top were two small green ones, the size of marbles.  
  
"I just wanna get just one skull in before I have to leave on business again." The posse assumed he was talking about on his right arm, it was coated with skull tattoos joined by swirling black patterns, there were at least forty skulls up and down that huge, beefy, arm, varying sizes and species were evident.  
  
"Another job well done Jupiter?" Ratmin bellowed back.  
  
"Well enough to be added to the arm of fame." Jupiter replied, it dawned on the posse, this Fornsmith was a bounty hunter, and this could be a bit of a problem for them as the flavour of the mouth bounty.  
  
Jupiter had a sidearm the size of a sawn-off shotgun and a collection of blades on his belt, when he went to sit he shifted uncomfortably, a huge laser-blaster was strapped to his back.  
  
His arm wasn't his only trophy, several dry flaps that looked suspiciously like the ears of several different species hung off his hunting vest, around his neck was an enormous tooth, to the posse it looked like something tore out of a T-rex's mouth from Earth's ancient past.  
  
Rachel paid Ratmin, Moonbeam considered what to do, they might be able to sneak away, not draw the bounty hunters attention, but...It had been a slow couple of days.  
  
He strode up to the giant conehead, "Morning" He said pleasantly.  
  
"Mornin'." Grunted the bounty hunter offhandedly, he looked away for a moment but drew back to the cheerful human, all three pairs of eyes squinted at Moonbeam thoughtfully, he shook a huge finger at him.  
  
"I know you from somewhere, don't I?" He asked, Moonbeam remained silent.  
  
Jupiter's finger shook more violently as he spoke "Yeah, Moonbeam, David Moonbeam." Red eyes glanced to the posse, blue scanned the room but the small green ones stayed locked on Dave.  
  
Surprisingly fast for a big guy he grabbed at his sidearm, Moonbeam reached under his jacket for his MiniUzi, the posse went for their own weapons.  
  
A shot rang out, as shots are wont to do.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Two  
  
"Freeze! Or the next one goes into one of youse!" Yelled Ratnim, the Fornsmith and the posse froze and turned slowly to the octopus creature clutching the Dracon scattergun. "Alright, it's cool, it's cool, just, just take it outside." Ratnim's rumbling deep voice was tripping over itself repeating.  
  
Jupiter and Moonbeam sized up Ratnim and then each other, "Sure thing Ratnim old buddy." Jupiter muttered.  
  
The Fornsmith was just that extra bit faster than Moonbeam to his trigger, Moonbeam rolled while red light blasted into the wall behind him, Roach pulled a sawn-off and shot Jupiter, a ragged hole appeared in the hunting vest and skin below, he grimaced as the buckshot ripped into his skin but didn't even falter.  
  
Ratnim aimed his gun for Rachel as she pulled her Uzi, she saw him and dived just in time to avoid a shot that would've have wiped her out at point-blank range, she lost the Uzi however and it skittered out of her reach, she went crawling when a whip-thin cord of muscle coiled around her leg and pulled her backwards under the watchful eye of Ratnim's scattergun.  
  
The small tattoo parlour meanwhile had been turned into an impossibly concentrated battle ground, unable to get more accurate shots off in such a confined space bullets and laser whizzed by everywhere like an angry swarm of attacking bees.  
  
A laser bolt lifted Moonbeam off his feet and sent him crashing into a wall, pain arched through his body, there was a hole in him somewhere but this wasn't the time to worry about it.  
  
Siggs' Star Z-84 let off short bursts of bullets, Jupiter swung a fist and broke her nose, she flipped through the air like a gymnast's move and crashed to the floor, Roach went to reload his gun and was grabbed and shoved through the parlour's front window, the glass shattered and twinkled all around him as he landed bone-jarringly on the pavement at the feet of a very confused Na.  
  
"Misspelled a bikie's tattoo." Roach told the confused alien and went about reloading.  
  
A bullet from Moonbeam's gun turned Jupiter's side arm into a twisted hunk of metal, Jupiter jumped from the window, barrelling past Roach and grabbed at the laser-blaster on his back.  
  
Rachel pounded fist after fist into Ratnim who didn't seem sure wether to keep her hostage or kill her outright, Taz reloaded the clips of his 45's and started shooting again, the bullets not having the desired effect on the big fleshy creature, he was knocked away by a swinging tentacle.  
  
Moonbeam gave chase out the window, Roach tripped him up just before lasers turned the air to flame where Moonbeam had just been, they rolled along the ground with blasts tearing up the ground behind them.  
  
Siggs appeared in the window and stopped Jupiter with a couple of short blasts across his chest, the giant roared in frustration. The lower half of Siggs' face was a mask of blood from her broken nose.  
  
Jupiter ran back and kept them guessing with laser fire.  
  
Inside the parlour tentacles whipped and bullets flew, Rach was wrapped in Ratmin's grasp and didn't like the way he was leering at her, a lucky shot from Taz caught Ratnim in the eye and he roared in pain.  
  
In his moment of distraction Rachel wrapped her hands around the barrel of his scatter gun and pulled it away from him, eye bleeding profusely he gave it up unknowingly, she grabbed the handle and jammed the barrel right between Ratnim's giant horse teeth till the poor bastard had the barrel half-way down his throat.  
  
She pulled the trigger and the back of his head exploded in shower of blue goo that painted the wall behind him, Ratnim moaned softly, swayed drunkenly and collapsed over on his counter, dead with a hole in the back of him big enough to put a foot in.  
  
Rachel untangled herself and grabbed the credits she'd paid for the tattoos with, "Sorry, we weren't entirely satisfied."  
  
Moonbeam's shoulders cracked on the subway station floor, Jupiter rolled over him, crushing him for a second, both had lost their guns some where on the long roll down the stairs, Jupiter stumbled to his feet, Moonbeam lashed out with a kick just below the knee, a normal human wouldn't have made a mark, Moonbeam buckled the knee and it nearly dislocated, Jupiter fell once again.  
  
In sync with one another Roach and Siggs were rushing down the stairs shooting, buckshot and bullets pounded the Fornsmith and the concrete ground around him.  
  
Jupiter managed to pull himself up, thick green blood dripped from him, he was amazingly resilient, by human standards impossibly so, he had more holes in him than a whiffle ball and still he lived and fought.  
  
A blade whistled past Moonbeam's head, Jupiter was taking cover beneath the stairs, "Man oh man!" He yelled, "I got a special spot on my arm for all of youse."  
  
He reached up the stair with a powerful arm and grabbed Roach's leg, a sick crack cut through the air and Roach roared, Jupiter let him go and he fell down off the stairs at Jupiter's feet with only one leg to support him, the other, while still attached was clearly broken.  
  
"You son of a whore!" Screamed Siggs, she tried to fire only to be swatted off the stairs and onto the concrete ground, blearily and unarmed Jupiter grabbed her for a human shield, he looked like King Kong with a cursing, redheaded Fay Wray in his grasp.  
  
The towering conehead laughed, all eyes glittering with malice, down the tunnel a subway train rumbled and Jupiter edged over to the track, keeping all eyes on Moonbeam, "Subway's right on time, very fortunate." Grasping Siggs by the neck he held her over the track as easily as if she were made of matches, "Just another job for Ratnim." He said.  
  
"Ratnim's dead, bitch." Said a voice behind him, "and so are you." Rachel pumped the dracon scattergun and blew a hole in Jupiter's back.  
  
The surprised Fornsmith dropped Siggs onto the track and dropped to one knee, he turned to this new threat, Rachel was standing their with the gun she'd stolen from the late Ratnim-Schluck-Broadback, she was flanked by Taz who stared with dead eyes at the cowering Bounty Hunter.  
  
She shot again and green blood blossomed from his chest, she pumped and shot, pumped and shot and Jupiter crumbled onto the subway tracks, next to the panting Siggs, the rumbling down the tunnel getting louder all the time.  
  
Siggs leapt to her feet, "Asshole, we really could've had something, something beautiful." Using him like a step she jumped from the Fornsmith's bulk onto the platform.  
  
Jupiter, hurt but far from dead pulled himself up just in time to see the train bearing down, "Ooh shii...!"  
  
Green, syrupy blood slapped Moonbeam's grinning face, without even noticing he burst into wild peals of laughter, "Never, ever fuck with Moonbeam's girl." He managed to mutter before he started roaring again.  
  
Siggs looked up from where she'd tripped into Roach's hard face, grimacing with the pain from his broken leg, blood coated the back of her shirt and stuck in her hair, a drop of goo slowly slide down her cheek, "Fuck! Look at this shit in my hair!"  
  
Roach forgot his pain for a moment, actually he thought, the slime seemed to go rather well with her red hair and matched her emerald eyes nicely, that or his brain was a little rattled from the fall, either way he started laughing to match Moonbeam, Siggs put her forehead to his and laughed along with him.  
  
By the track the train slowed and stopped, a bulging Fornsmith arm, ripped from its socket, slapped onto the platform, covered in tattoos and clenched in a fist.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Three  
  
That night the posse celebrated in their latest find, a club named 'The Screeching Yotsaw' popular with the local mafia big shots, of course when given the opportunity the posse would gladly party wether they had something to celebrate or not.  
  
Roach and Siggs played a drinking game with a Roppiss named, strangely, Rover and a short Nephran Moonbeam didn't know, despite spending the better part of the day in a healing tank and having his leg as good as new Dave saw Roach still subconsciously favoured the right one when it was his turn to get the next round.  
  
Taz talked to a Caprician mafia-groupie in one corner, the Caprician's were a refreshingly human-looking species with blue dreadlock hair, pale skin and eyes that were a fierce yellow, Taz seemed not to notice the way she rubbed his arm and smiled flirtatiously.  
  
Moonbeam sat in the corner, a pint of Hawjabran ale in one hand and a joint in the other, Rach pressed herself at his side, she plucked the Silmarillion joint from his fingers nimbly and perched it between her own ruby-red lips.  
  
"How about you and me go back to the ship and have a little celebration of our own?" She suggested.  
  
Moonbeam grinned, "Babe, raging Fornsmith's couldn't fuckin stop me."  
  
Meanwhile at 'Our Mother of Glanggloxxanill Hospital' The aging Na hospital director Fnar Kinscher lead the jittery group of interns away from the hit-and-run victim Nephran.  
  
The interns talked softly but excited between themselves, fresh meat the lot of them and this was their first night in intensive care, Fnar had seen a lot of interns go by in his time and from this group of eight he saw potential in maybe two of them, bah! Were interns this incompetent when he'd started out? He didn't think so but maybe he himself had been to naive to notice, he doubted that personally but anything was possible.  
  
"Next we have with us quite a celebrity." He told the excitable idiots that were this hospital's hope for the future, "Jupiter Dranz, maybe some of you have heard of him?"  
  
A thrill went through the interns and they stood in shocked silence as they looked down on the expansive and unconscious figure of the Fornsmith Bounty Hunter.  
  
"Wow, is that really him?" A Roppiss named Rrrahan asked slack-jawed, stupid question thought Fnar, even covered with healing patches and missing his best-known feature, his heavily tattooed arm, and three eyes it was clearly the infamous Bounty Hunter.  
  
"Of course it's bloody him," snapped Fnar, "This patient is an another hit-and-run case I'm afraid."  
  
"A hover car did that?" One of the Na interns whose name Fnar could not remember for the life of him.  
  
"No, this particular case was hit by a train."  
  
The interns stood in a shocked silence, "How did he survive?" Rrrahan asked, more to himself than to Fnar.  
  
"Exactly what are those med school teachers filling your heads with in those fancy schools?" Growled Fnar, actually he'd been uncharacteristically surprised himself by the Fornsmith's survival but kept that to himself, "His species are uncannily resilient, as you may have guessed. And despite massive loss of blood and very serious injuries he was saved by the skill of our surgeons just in time."  
  
"Why is he not in a healing tank for the arm?" A Na intern named Daf asked.  
  
Fnar smiled bitterly, a trick he'd developed years ago especially for interns who asked stupid questions, "Can anyone answer Mr Daf's question?" He asked.  
  
A few beats of silence before young female Na, Ques, one of the two he saw a sliver of hope for, spoke up "The trauma from the detached arm is to great for a refix right now."  
  
Fnar's smile broadened to something closer to authentic, "Correct Ms Ques." She beamed, a teachers pet if ever he saw one but an admirable one, in the top five of her year.  
  
"This patient is in a very deep coma, one that is to dangerous to draw him out of, it is best at this point to let the body heal itself." He paused, "With the occasional assistance of modern medicine of course."  
  
"He is touch and go at this point, but given time and his legendary Fornsmith endurance he may just make it."  
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz-Hoo-hoo! What will become of the Bounty Hunter Jupiter Dranz? Will his path and the Posse's ever cross? Review and keep tuning in to find out! Emphasise on review, now. 


	10. The Spider Just Caught A Coupl'a Flies

Britz-I beg your forgiveness few but faithful, I've been dealing with to much school and work to post i'm afraid, excuses, excuses and lets get on with the bloody thing!  
  
Chapter Twenty-Four  
  
Moonbeam strutted into the Na boxing gym, in the early morning it appeared most of the usual patrons were sleeping in, only a single alien was in this morning, one Dave hadn't seen around before, a very big and ripped Dracyer, it was pounding fists into a steel-mesh boxing bag, laying in the occasional tentacle thwap as well.  
  
They're were better gyms than this grungy little spot with it's single boxing ring, old bench press with rusty weights and the heavily duct-taped boxing bags that hung from the ceiling like executed bodies but Moonbeam liked this place, it had a homely feel to it and he liked the gruff old Na who ran the place, Mant Sanyot, had Dave ever seen the old classic Rocky movies he would have immediately associated the Na with Mickey, the tough-as-nails boxing coach.  
  
The gym was quiet except for the Dracyer's steady pounding, "Yo buddy!" Moonbeam yelled, "Where's Mant?"  
  
The guy's shoulder blades were like the back of an armoured personal carrier; he kept them turned to Moonbeam, "Went out." He grunted.  
  
Was weird thought Moonbeam, Mant was usually prowling around, cursing out the various aliens who used his gym with his Har, a large vicious looking creature that looked half-wolf half-alligator, it was named Budkis and was as playful as a kitten, unless Mant told him to be otherwise.  
  
Moonbeam stripped off his shirt and begun wrapping bandages around his hands, as he sized up the duct-taped mummy of a bag the pounding behind him stopped, Dave felt the hairs of the back of his neck rise up, he looked over.  
  
The Dracyer was sitting innocently enough, next to his crumpled shirt and bag, drinking some ghastly looking energy drink, it looked at Dave and half-smiled, pulling lips back from wicked canines, Moonbeam turned back and laid into the bag.  
  
Mace could smell his bounty's suspicion, it knew something wasn't right but wasn't scared, didn't matter, he was just as dead. Mace reached into his bag slowly and drew out his piece, a semi-automatic blaster; it looked like a modified MiniUzi and fit perfectly into his clawed hand.  
  
Moonbeam, feeling out the room with almost a demon sixth sense turned just in time, he dived to the side just as Mace pulled the trigger, red light blazed from the gun, laser shredded right through the punching bag, sending half of it slamming to the ground, Mace wondered briefly if when the Na owner of the gym would simply put the halves back together with duct-tape when he woke up from his drugged sleep, his muzzle quivered in a silent mad giggle.  
  
Moonbeam ducked and rolled, the gun blazing through the hanging bags behind him, in a moment of insane clarity both him and the hunter were thinking about the same thing, the duct tape, would he deal with these sliced bags like any other damage? Funny how the mind works in the heat of battle.  
  
Dave felt strangely naked rolling around, no gun, wearing only a pair of shorts and singlet for training, he was just glad the bounty hunter hadn't decided to go after him in the gym shower, fighting naked was a big no-no on Moonbeam's list, unless it was a shapely young lady who was into that kinky kind of shit.  
  
Mace switched the gun to single shot and fired in a fluid movement, Moonbeam felt the bolt blaze his left ear, it missed burning it straight off his head by an inch.  
  
Dave's hand worked almost without him realising, grasping air till it met barbell weight, 20kilos but he handled it as easily as plastic frisbee "Eat this bitch!" The round weight spun through the air and connected with Mace with a solid thud.  
  
"Ow goddamnit!" The Dracyer yelled in protest and kept firing.  
  
Moonbeam grabbed up the long steel shaft of a bench-press weight and held it with the pride of a samurai with his sword, "We can do this the easy way or the hard way Dracyer, you won't enjoy either of 'em."  
  
"Now where would be the fun in life if it was easy?" Mace asked, watching carefully down his line of fire.  
  
"Point taken." Moonbeam lunged, a shot seared his side but the pain wasn't registering, not yet, the end of the steel shaft connected solidly between the Dracyer's disturbing lavender eyes.  
  
"Gah! Gloxvil tap-dancing Flist!" Mace yelled in agony, one of the only true weak spots on a Dracyer was right between the eyes at the top of the muzzle, Dave had gotten very lucky, Mace's vision blurred and flickered in and out for a moment like a bad TV reception.  
  
It was long enough, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded Moonbeam swung the bar into the clawed hand holding the gun, a shot flew uselessly into the floor, Moonbeam whacked with a vicious downward swing that almost broke Mace's wrist and the gun flew from the Dracyer's grip.  
  
"Son of a bitch." Mace muttered as he regained his composure, his tentacles struck, quick as rattlesnakes, ten feet of muscle grabbed the pole and encircled Moonbeam's arms. Dave barely saw the iron bands of fur around his arms before he was flying through the air over Mace's head.  
  
The landing was painful but Dave rolled into it well, when he looked up Mace was twirling the steel shaft like a baton, a bizarre show of tentacle dexterity, "You like hitting people with hard metal objects huh?"  
  
"A little off topic, but yeah." Moonbeam admitted, Mace hurled the bar like a javelin, Dave rolled out of it's way moments before it would have struck him, the pole rushed past and imbedded itself in the side of the shoddy old boxing ring.  
  
The Dracyer lumbered closer, Dave kicked high and hard, catching him in the throat, he turned to run and a tentacle slid over his shoulder, little barbs, hidden in the pads of the flared ends dug into his skin like a dozen small fish-hooks and he was yanked backwards to the ground at Mace's feet.  
  
His cinderblock fist pounded Moonbeam's face before he could move again, the world swum madly but Mace's next punch hit the floor, Dave lanced a kick to the bastard's groin, strangely an evolutionary oddity had left Dracyer's reproductive organs very well protected, like they were wearing a cup permanently.  
  
But if you hit it just right... Moonbeam was two for two, Mace's legs jolted, not only tripping him but launching him over Moonbeam onto the floor, The Dracyer's wall shaking roar sounded like a sound that would be at home coming from between a Tiger's jaws.  
  
Moonbeam picked himself, "Sorry, don't usually go for the low blow stuff but sometimes you just got to ring the bell on a fight."  
  
With a snarl of rage Mace spun and lashed out a powerful swipe that would knock a buffalo's block off, Moonbeam had a moment to realise the bell may be far from rung yet before he was hurtling through the air, his shoulders pounded through the glass of the second story window and he found himself falling pavement-wards fast.  
  
He slammed to the ground, his hip reverberating with a sick crack, a jolt of pain so severe racked him that he felt sure his right leg was broken and his pelvis must now look like a jigsaw puzzle.  
  
However Moonbeam's unbelievable luck (aided no doubt by his grade A resurrected body) had struck again, his leg was still in one piece, that one piece hurt like a bastard but no broken bones below the waist, he was quite sure there was a couple of rib fragments floating about his chest after that hit however.  
  
Mace leapt from the window Dave had broken and hit the pavement, his powerful legs taking the landing easily, he loomed above Moonbeam, "I ain't sure a few extra thou is worth bringing you in alive for." A hand the size of a baseball glove grabbed his neck and slid him along the pavement, Moonbeam's back roared protest and shreds of singlet were ripped from his shoulders.  
  
He flipped, rolled, tried to control it and just tumbled backwards some more, finally stopping at the mouth of an alley, with Mace was lumbering towards him Dave got up and ran down it.  
  
With his hip screaming bloody murder running from the huge and fast alien wasn't an option, what was there in this alley to help? Moonbeam's devious eyes fixed a on a half full dumpster, so even aliens has dumpsters huh? He went around it and begun to lift, arms straining, leg begging him to stop.  
  
Mae rounded the corner, Dave heaved and the dumpster tumbled over, the Dracyer growled surprise before it slammed down on top of him.  
  
Moonbeam limped down the alley and into the next empty street, behind him he could hear the dumpster overturning and the Dracyer's heavy panting, Mace rounded the corner, partially supporting himself with his tentacles; he was in bad shape but wasn't giving up either.  
  
Dave's leg was spasming and his limp had turned into almost a hop as he crashed through the shop's door, 'Mason-Dixie Pawnshop' read the faded old sign above the window.  
  
The alien at the counter was the same species as that bastard tattoo artist Ratnim, Onbanoc, surprise registered on that strange face when Moonbeam bloodied and bent crashed through his door. "What the fuck boy?" It yelled.  
  
Mace, moving quicker than Dave had expected smashed through the door, popping it from it's frame rather than opening it, Dave swung a hook into the creatures muzzle and it's powerful legs went out from under, leaning on the wall he managed a follow up kick to the face. "So you like chasing people huh big man?" He dropped to his knees with a pained grunt, "Well you caught me ya numb fuck."  
  
The Dracyer punched and Moonbeam was knocked away. "Hold it right there goddamnit!" Yelled the Onbanoc, brandishing a Dracon scattergun, "hold it there or I'll blow your brains out!"  
  
"Man this ain't none of your fuc.." Before Moonbeam could finished a tentacle flashed out hold the gun like a bat, it was the final blow Dave could take, he collapsed unconscious, moving quickly the Onbanoc swung again, smashing against the side of Mace's head.  
  
Groggily the Dracyer watched as the Onbanoc laid the gun down on the counter and dialled the phone, "Zed? It's Maynard. The spider just caught a coupl'a flies." Mace collapsed unconscious.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Five  
  
When Moonbeam awoke he was tied down to a chair, Mace was beside him growling and struggling against his own bonds.  
  
"I see you're finally awake." Commented Maynard, holding his dracon weapon rather casually, "Well don't matter, when Zed gets here, that's when we gonna have some fun."  
  
Dracyer snarled through his ball-gag, Moonbeam got the distinct impression the 'fun' involved wasn't going to be the type everyone in the family could enjoy, more specifically he thought he and Mace were probably going to enjoy it about as much as the little guys enjoyed shower time in the big house.  
  
Dave closed his eyes and concentrated on the muscles in his arms, against the ropes on his wrists, felt the power his unnatural body held.  
  
Maynard stared at him, "Hey, stop that, whatever the fuck you're doing stop it!" He sounded scared, he should have been the ropes, so tight they dug furrows in his skin were breaking.  
  
Mace meanwhile slipped a tentacle out of it's bonds, it whipped out so fast Maynard never saw it coming, whipping across his face, the hidden barbs scratching ditches across the Onbanoc's ugly features.  
  
The ropes broke, Moonbeam leapt up, Maynard managed a shot that blew the chair that Dave had been sitting in to pieces, Moonbeam ran out the back room into the main body of the store, Mace roared curses behind him.  
  
Moonbeam yanked the door open, a bell above signalled it's opening, "Well we lost one but I got you babe." He heard Maynard laugh, keeping the Dracyer tentacle under control with several of his own, "Yeah I don't think your buddy's to set on rescuing you."  
  
Moonbeam was crazy and cruel, but he couldn't leave a fellow warrior to a fate that he thought worse that death, sodomized by a couple of squid and made their bitch? Just wasn't right, Mace may have tried to kill him but they were to alike, on the same team, he was one of the bad guys too.  
  
The door shut behind him as he turned to the store, what to compete with the scattergun? A hammer was on the shelf, nah not destructive enough, an old-style chain saw? Too Friday the 13th.  
  
Then he saw the Hawjabran sword nested high on the shelf, gladiatorial-combat style, engraved with runes along the blade and as sharp as an Oscar Wilde witticism.  
  
Maynard was saying something about Zed when Moonbeam walked backed in the room, his back was turned, Mace growled threateningly and strained against the heavy-duty handcuffs on his wrists, "So long you queer squid cocksucker." Moonbeam said.  
  
The Onbanoc twisted, bringing around the gun, Moonbeam sliced and the tentacles holding the gun sluiced off and landed on the ground like so much calamari.  
  
Using his powerful legs Mace managed to crash his chair into Maynard, knocking him down, tentacles flew but Moonbeam hewed through them like jungle vines, this sword meant business.  
  
With an across slice faster than the eye could follow Dave struck the final blow, Maynard's eyes bulged in surprise, slit of sky-blue widening, blue blood leaked out from in between those huge horse teeth and the top half of his body slipped off, a completely clean cut had sliced him in two so fine the blood still ran up and down his veins till the top half hit the floor and the bottom followed.  
  
Moonbeam snatched the keys of the dead Onbanoc and unlocked Mace's cuffs and undid his ropes, the Dracyer remained silent as the ball-gag dropped from his mouth.  
  
"Mate." He said at last. "You did me a solid, I tried to kill you and you saved me from a fate worse than death, hell in some cultures that'd mean I'd owe you a life debt."  
  
"Fuck off." Moonbeam replied.  
  
"Yeah I know, bullshit, but law of the street is you pay a guy back when he does that for you, tell you what, lemme buy you a drink."  
  
They stalked out of the shop, glass from the broken door grinding beneath their feet, rounding the alley was a motorbike, growling like a caged beast, it looked like any normal human motorbike, even had wheels which was strange, you didn't see many non-hover vehicles around here, 'GRACE' was blazed across it's teardrop gas tank.  
  
The rider was anything but human though, another Onbanoc, bright red and ugly, his tentacles clutched the purring chopper.  
  
"Mind if I borrow the sword?" Mace asked, Dave handed it to him. "Zed?"  
  
"What's it to..." something clicked in his three eyes as if he was noticing them both for the first time, "Oh holy motha of...." The sword sluiced through him as cleanly as it had his brother, the top half flew backwards with a stream of blood the bottom with tentacles still wrapped around the bike drove on, Mace reached out and grabbed the handle bars, the tires screeched in protest till he shut off the engine and pushed the chopper to the ground, it feel with a clank and a wet slap.  
  
They stared at the dead half wrapped around the bike for a moment, Mace handed Dave back the sword, now dripping with blue alien blood.  
  
"So how about that drink?" Moonbeam asked finally.  
  
"Giddyup." Mace agreed, the walked back down the street together, two proud warriors returning from battle, "I know this great little place a block from here." He continued as they walked off, "Best Yahien Wings in this sector of the galaxy."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Well they wouldn't put it on the menu if it weren't true right? And they got these great things made out of Fon's they cut them up and arrange it into this flower shape, absolutely...." Their voices faded gradually with the morning light, not even nine yet and it had already been one hell of an interesting day.  
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz-Y'know maybe if you guys reviewed more I'd be faster, you think of that? That's right I gone from pleading to bitter in the time it took to zip down the page, review damnit! Oh, also I'd like to throw a big ol' disclaimer to the pretty obvious stolen scenes from Pulp Fiction, it started as homage and got out of hand, eh, at least I didn't let Mace be banged up the patoot. 


	11. Not That There's Anything Wrong With Tha...

Britz-Shit, I know, I'm bloody slack with these updates ain't I? Sorry, I will make an effort to get my ass in gear though I'm also writing other things, I can surely break my slunmp of an update after two months no?  
  
Chapter Twenty-Six  
  
"Alright sweet heart, I'll take a Fiester's and a basket of Yahien wings." Mace told the Caprician waitress with the figure and basic uniform of a Hooter's waitress, "What'll be Davie boy?"  
  
"Got any Hawjawbra ale?"  
  
"Sorry honey, only beer." The gum-chewing waitress replied.  
  
"I'll take a, Fiester's then."  
  
"Kay." She said and made her way back to the bar, hips swinging in tiny little short shorts starting to fray and hint a naked curve of pale alien buttock.  
  
"Great thing about this place, okay so they may not have your classier drinks, but they got near every beer in the known universe on tap." Mace confided.  
  
The Caprician made her way over with two huge glasses of dark foamy brown liquid and a basket of wings that looked just like any concocted by KFC to Dave, as she walked away both stared intently at her retreating perfect rear end.  
  
"Service ain't half bad either." Moonbeam quipped.  
  
Mace chuckled throatily, took a long gulp from his beer and pulled a foot long cigar from the suit they'd recovered from Mant's gym, "So what's your story kid? I mean, the Empire wants a piece of your hide something serious, hell there's even rumours from your system you're some kind of, vampire or something."  
  
"Closer than you think."  
  
"Yeah?" Mace paused for a moment; smoke trailing idly towards the ceiling. "Cigar?" He offered.  
  
"Yeah sure." Mace held out a second foot long cigar out to Moonbeam and lit it for him.  
  
"Watch yourself, Yeerks ain't cleared Dracyer cigars safe for human consumption just yet."  
  
"I'll cope."   
  
"I'll bet." Mace drawled suspiciously, "I got time mate, tell us your story."  
  
"Well, I guess it started out when I heard this bleeding heart liberal Governor was coming to my town, Utopia, to make some fancy speech, Clinton his name was and I got this bright idea..."  
  
Long minutes later Moonbeam finished "...And that's how I ended up here, in an alien Hooters, telling my life, well death story to a bloke who was trying to kill me an hour ago." Dave drained his second glass of Fiester's and looked at Mace expectantly.  
  
Mace shrugged, tapped the ash of his cigar into his empty glass, "Alright, I buy it."  
  
"Glad to hear it."  
  
He stretched a tentacle out and tapped the Caprician waitress on the shoulder, "Scuse us kitten, we'll take another round."  
  
Her teeth gnashed as she chewed, "Sure thing babe, you want 'nother basket of wings wit dat?"  
  
"Please." He plucked the final wing out of the basket and chomped it down, bones and all.  
  
She smiled at him like a very blond cheerleader at a strapping young quarterback; Mace watched her go very closely. "She wants me." Mace boasted.  
  
"You really digging her right?" Moonbeam asked.  
  
"Pfft, ain't you?"  
  
"Yeah but you're like a big, fuckin' wolfman guy, she looks almost human, y'know, kinda off-putting."  
  
Mace held up his right hand, a gesture the right tentacle strangely mimicked, "Intersexual." He said, as it that explained it all.  
  
"What's that, bi or somethin'?"   
  
Mace actually looked repulsed by the idea, "Hell no." His wolf face softened, "Not that there's anything wrong with that. Just means I can appreciate ladies of, many races, humanoids, and with everything in the right place of course, dig that?"  
  
"Dig intersexuals? Hell knowing Siggs I'll probably be living with one in another month."  
  
Another Caprician served them, "H-Hey Mace."  
  
It was clear Mace's brain went through the process of being racked for a moment, but his eyes lit up finally, "Cythy! Hey baby how you been doing?"  
  
"Ahh good, y'know, I thought maybe, well, you never did call me back."  
  
"Yeah, well life of a bounty hunter, I'm sorry babe."  
  
Her pale face brightened, "Yeah I understand, I, like, got you one of those Fon things you liked so much, just, on the house."  
  
"Aww you always were a sweet kid." He gave a playful tap on the chin with his tentacle, she giggled like a schoolgirl and put down a tray with the two beers a basket of wings and a plate with something that looked like a chopped onion arranged in a flower shape.  
  
"If you're like, going to be staying planet-side long, just, y'know, call me." and she walked off, smiling nervously.  
  
"You and her?" Dave asked.  
  
"Oh yeah, cute kid huh?"  
  
"Damn straight."   
  
Mace's muzzle twisted into a smile, "See, now you're liking her right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Then you qualify for Intersexual, she ain't human is she?"  
  
"Bit of a different situation." Mace shook his head, "Alright, you got me." He took a gulp of his fresh beer and a drag of the Dracyer cigar, "Hows about you Mace, you strike me as a.. Man with a chequered past."  
  
"What can I tell ya, I'm a Mafia brat, grew up with it, I dunno, you work for the family all your life, and I was damn good at it to, then BAM, ya kill the Don's son when he finds you fucking his sister and tries to put a pickaxe in your skull, and suddenly they turn their backs on you and there's a price on your head so big you can never go home again."  
  
"Life's like that sometimes."  
  
"Yep, goddamn 'Saw Jaw' McKensing, thought his sister was an angelic virgin right up till the end, thick skulled mother fucker, would have driven the family into the saplings if he'd taken over anyway."  
  
"So what about the Bounty Hunter bit?" Moonbeam asked, genuinely interested in his strange new companion.  
  
"Guy's got to do something with his time." Mace replied, Dave could tell he wasn't finished so waited as the Dracyer shoved a couple of slices of Fon in his mouth and continued, "I don't know though, I mean it's fun an' all, but it's so impersonal, Back in the day it was, bang, that ones for the family, freelancing just ain't my thing."  
  
An idea sparked somewhere deep in the recesses of Moonbeam's slowly working mind. He smiled, "Mace, I want to make you a offer."  
  
Mace turned his muzzle and looked carefully at Moonbeam, "I'm listening."  
  
"Join me Mace, come with the Posse, we'll... Make beautiful music together." Dave grinned.  
  
Mace returned the smile but then looked serious, he scratched at the back of his head with his little fish hook claws and toyed with his glass, "I dunno, I mean, I hate the Empire as much as the next guy, but shit the price on my head is already big enough, I need ta add to it now?"  
  
"Aww, it'll be fun, it'll be fun it'll be fun."  
  
"Well when you put it that way it might be fun." Mace drawled.  
  
"You know this is what you want, to be immortalised, we'll live forever Mace, we'll destroy it all and piss our names into the ashes." Moonbeam was gone into his own little universe, stars blossomed and died in his eyes, he smiled lovingly.  
  
Mace looked at him with good-humoured scepticism, "Alright, what the hell, you only live once." Moonbeam gave him a look, "Present company excluded."  
  
Chapter Twenty-Seven  
  
Wheeling the chopper slowly between the two Dave and Mace laughed uproariously as they stumbled back to the docking bays where The Phoenix was parked.  
  
"Alright, alright." Mace's slurred growl tried to overtake his laugh, "So we blow the support tree, whole fucking," he stopped to snort more laughter, "Whole fucking station comes down, BOOM! Makin' dog meat."  
  
Moonbeam roared drunken laughter, it seemed Mace's stories kept getting funnier and funnier as the pair got drunker and drunker.  
  
Mace growled a laugh, "So were flying off in the Aircar, laughing, shouting shit about 'sticking it to the man' and this branch, and I mean a BRANCH comes flying through the air, thing was like three times longer than the car, rams through the roof, smacks into Tony in the passenger seat, punches him out the fucking door, and by now were floating a good fucking three hundred legs above the ground." He roared laughter and nearly tripped over the chopper as he wheeled it. Moonbeam grinned anticipating, he wasn't disappointed.  
  
"Now there was nothing wrong wit good ol' Tony's reflexes, soon as it pounded him out the door he grabbed that branch that was now skewering the fucking car and he's hanging there by the skin of his claws screaming 'ahh, stop the car, stop the car, help I'm gonna die, I'm gonna fall and die here!'"  
  
Moonbeam screamed laughter, just picturing the spectacle, Mace continued "Now about this point you don't reckon shit couldn't get much worse, we're running from the cop station we just blew and I'm trying to drive a AirCar at top speed through an unmarked patch of forest with my friend dangling from a branch that's trying to avenge it's tree by skewering the fucking car, and then Cops! out a nowhere there's a half dozen who must have got out before the station fell, Tony's screaming, I'm screaming, two guys in the back are screaming while in the middle of it, Crazy Jitters is sitting there, stoned out of his mind, with this big fuckin grin on his face."  
  
The Phoenix was right ahead but Dave and Mace couldn't go on, they broke down with laughter and their drunken legs gave, the bike slammed to the ground and they collapsed onto it, Siggs and Roach sat outside smoking and playing cards, the two came rushing other with confused looks on their faces.  
  
"Jesus Boss," Siggs said in her southern drawl, "What'choo been drinking? And who's your new friend?"  
  
Moonbeam regained his composure for a moment, "Heh heh, I dunno, what, what it was, but, there was a lot of it, and this, this is Mace, Mace, this is Siggs and Roach."  
  
"Ahh so you're Siggs huh?" Mace snaked out a tentacle and took her hand, "I heard about you, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance." The drunken attempt at suaveness sent the pair into fresh peals of laughter.  
  
"And Mace is here why?" Roach asked.  
  
"Why you two, Mace is the latest member of our motley crew, let's all welcome him to the family."  
  
"Oh Christ." Muttered Roach with a roll of his eyes, Siggs laughed.  
  
"So who's bike is this, yours Mace?" She asked.  
  
"It's a chopper." Mace replied matter-of-factly.  
  
"Okay whose chopper is it?"  
  
"Zed's" He told her in the same tone.  
  
"Who's Zed?" She asked.  
  
Moonbeam got shakily to his feet, "Zed's dead baby, Zed's dead."  
  
Chapter Twenty-Eight  
  
Seven-year-old David Moonbeam wandered the slums of Utopia, seventeen year old David Moonbeam watched him from a detached point of view, he knew it was a dream, had to be one of those weird memory dreams.  
  
Young Dave was covered in blood, yet people walked past him, he was ignored, not even seen by them, was it truly what had happened or was his brain just firing random neurons in for flavour? He couldn't tell.  
  
He tried to yell to the kid, tell him to get off the street before he was seen but even he could not hear himself, he was cursed to the ether of memory, it didn't matter, a patrol hover craft idled down the street, young Dave shied away from it's light and it passed him by, the pigs inside not even glancing at him, Moonbeam was sure that much was real, he thought he might remember it.  
  
He was tall for his age, but a skinny, lanky child, when puberty hit him, hard and fast many years from now he would rise broad shouldered and heavyset with muscle but now he was just a scrawny, malnutritioned boy wandering the streets alone, covered in a coat of drying blood.  
  
Eyes glazed he had wandered into the car park of a seedy bar, realisation hit ethereal Moonbeam like a punch to the gut, it was The Crater, the place he had been... Reborn.  
  
A tall thin figure watched the child's approach, smiling, "Little late for you to by out isn't it, David?" the child looked to the man with hazy recognition of his name, the man's smile grew wider, his teeth were rotten, so much so they looked ready to fall out of that shark-like grin and shatter on the pavement below.  
  
Memories were rolling for Moonbeam now, it was his mentor, his... Father, he had been resurrected on almost the same spot he had meet Martin Broadcloak.  
  
"That's right." the lean man said, "I know all about you, I want to help you David, My name's Martin Broadcloak, you'd like my help wouldn't you?"  
  
Young Dave nodded, unconsciously Moonbeam watching nodded with him.  
  
"Wonderful." Martin clapped his hands, "Let's get started shall..." It was if the memory was a record that suddenly skipped a track, Moonbeam looked down on a different scene, same night, the first night, that first wondrous night.  
  
It was an alley, trash strewn, garbage bags pilled in mountain ranges that mangy rats skittered in and out of, Martin and Dave stood at it's mouth, smiling, Martin has his bony hand gently placed on young Moonbeam's head, like the proud father he never had.  
  
An old wino had collapsed amongst the garbage can's, snorting loudly and whispering nonsensical phrases in a drunken sleep, an empty bottle had rolled from his hand and sat at his side on the cold, hard concrete.  
  
David looked at Martin, Martin smiled with genuine warmth in his gaunt, dead face and nodded at him, the boy walked down the alley, as he approached the drunk his nervous stride seemed to evolve into the stalk of a stealthy jungle cat, the rats and the roaches peered from their holes as he kneeled down and picked up the drunk's empty bottle, looked at it a moment, admiring how the distant glow of the streetlight was reflected, almost captured within it's surface.  
  
Then he brought it down on the ground, the body shattered leaving him holding the neck blooming out into jagged shards of glass, the sound broke through to the drunk, he stirred and blearily opened his eyes, "Martha? Martha is that you?" he managed to ask before the glass ripped through his jugular vein, blood spurted wildly but gained no reaction from the child. The man tried to scream but only blood gurgled out of his mouth, his eyes now fully open stared wildly at the small, impassive figure of the boy beside him.  
  
When the old man slumped dead Dave turned to Martin, He was grinning, it was a wild grin, a madman's grin which Moonbeam returned and would after that spend many, many years subconsciously imitating, know to most who saw it as his 'Heeere's Johnny' grin.  
  
Martin turned to him, not the young him but to Moonbeam, who stared at the dream that wasn't really a dream at all, "Never forget the people who shaped you David." Martin said, he clapped loudly twice and Moonbeam jolted awake with the sound ringing in his ears.  
  
***To Be Continued***  
  
Britz I swear on that one, Moonbeam is not dead (again) not by a long shot, also kids start looking forward to my latest work, an Animorphs Halloween special! (*shakes fist* look forward to it!) and review! 


	12. Alright Ramblers, Let's Get Ramblin'

Britz-Pfft, and you guys thought I couldn't do any worse than a two month slump, probably even thought I was lying eventually about Moonbeam not being dead, he was just resting... Sleeping.. Hibernating... for eight months. I don't usually do this but I want to thank Hell-Flame-Narf, something about his foolish, foolish loyalty to me has inspired something, and Moonbeam rises from the dead once again.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Nine  
  
"Alright boys an' girls, I think we need to get out of the house, make ourselves known." Moonbeam told the posse members collected around the cockpit, they agreed with various grunts and noises of approval.  
  
"We don't know enough, we got our book learning down, but now we got to listen to a voice of experience, a man in the know, Mace, give us something buddy."  
  
Mace, who had now been an official posse member for going on two standard days looked about in surprise, he had been using the time constructively to make a paper airplane with long, careful strokes, "Aw shit, I didn't know this job came with pop quizzes" The other members groaned.  
  
"Come on, you want to fry some Yeerks, we want to fry some Yeerks, well.. Fry something anyway." Moonbeam said. "...Actually anything would be nice right now."  
  
Mace finished his airplane with slow deliberation, picked it up and looked at it, "Alright, I got an idea."  
  
Minutes later they were standing at the door of the navigation room, "So what's this big plan?" Taz grunted.  
  
"I saw this in a movie once." Mace replied, then to the computer he spoke clearly "Computer, display star map of Yeerk controlled space."  
  
Instantly the room bloomed with hundreds of tiny stars, some with little pinpoint planets, no bigger than a full stop, slowly rotating around them, others without, it was like gazing in on a minute universe.  
  
"Computer, analyse flight of this object through the room until I say stop." Mace said, he handed the paper plane to Moonbeam, "You want to do the honours?"  
  
Moonbeam took the plane and tossed it lightly through the room, it floated through the air, swirling around entire star systems, "Stop." Mace said a moment before the plane did a final swoop and fell to the ground.  
  
"Computer, when I said stop, the plane was closest to which system?"  
  
"Object closest to Pentasera system, Empire controlled, only inhabitable planet Gervasid and Sstram home world of Pentasera..."  
  
"Alright, withdraw star map." He turned to Moonbeam and the posse "Bada bing, Pentasera, good a place as any."  
  
"Just like that huh?" Dave asked.  
  
"Just like that." Mace replied.  
  
Chapter Thirty  
  
"Navigation?" Moonbeam called.  
  
"Check."  
  
"Weapon systems?"   
  
"Locked and loaded Dave."  
  
"Tunes?"   
  
'Stone Cold Crazy' by Metallica ripped through the ship's sound system "Checkin'." Rasped Roach.  
  
"Alright ramblers, let's get ramblin'."  
  
The Blade Ship hummed majestically off the ground under Moonbeam's touch, and after a moments consideration veered wildly to the right, scraping the wing painfully against the side of another, rather exotic ship.  
  
"Ahh, nothing a little buffing won't get out." He told them as they drifted away and sparks ceased to fill the side view screens, the posse exchanged worried looks.  
  
The Phoenix picked up speed as it exited the landing bay and arched skywards, once out of the atmosphere Dave let the autopilot take over and the ship burst through to pure white, he still found that incredible looking, vast expanse of jack shit, after a moment of taking it in he zoomed over the flickering navigation screen.  
  
"Alright people, we're detouring through some pretty dicey areas, I want three at the helm at a time, Mace, Siggs, Roach, you pull first shift, I'll be counting sheep if you need me."  
  
"Alright boss." Roach replied and turned Metallica down slightly from its dull roar, Moonbeam, Rach and Taz walked from the room.  
  
Taz made for the newly transformed weight room, Rach lingered a moment "You alright Dave? You've been sleeping an awful lot these last few days."  
  
Moonbeam smiled at her "Just catching up with an old friend." He laughed uproariously and left Rachel bewildered in the hallway.  
  
Chapter Thirty-One  
  
"First time huh?" Mace mused over Siggs' question, "Course I remember it, sixteen, shitty party, friend of a friend kegger, would've been the worst I've ever been to if I hadn't gotten laid, I was fucked on the drink, she was more fucked on drugs, our eyes meet across the room and five finas later I was banging her Harrat style over the bathroom sink."  
  
"That's a beautiful story Mace, how was it?" Roach asked.  
  
"Oh I was great, right up until I passed out, hit my head on the bathtub and woke up the next morning in a pool of my own vomit." The other two roared laughter, "Yeah yeah, laugh it up, happy times then."  
  
A buzz alerted them to the fact they were entering normal space and they watched as the vestiges of white melted to a view of an asteroid field mere parsecs away, Roach shook out a Marlboro from Siggs pack, "Not to many more jumps now."  
  
Mace turned back to the two humans, "Alright then, your first time, fire away."  
  
Siggs gestured for Roach to go ahead and he sighed. "Alright, I was fifth teen, she was twenty two, we worked out at the same gym in a nicer part of Utopia then I could've paid for, she was short, brunette, very hot, we flirted for a coupla weeks, had it off in the gym bathroom, she turned out to be an absolute man-eater."  
  
"How was it?" Mace sniggered.  
  
"So fuckin' good the whole Lamaze class upstairs were smoking."  
  
Siggs roared throaty laughter, Mace looked confused but got the gist and grinned his mouthful of pearly whites.  
  
Outside the autopilot guided The Phoenix effortlessly around the asteroid field, the Yeerk controlled asteroid field with a relentless mining operation at its heart, it's blatant flight collecting unwanted attention.  
  
Two stealth Bugfighters on guard duty rounds turned their attention to the unscheduled Blade ship.  
  
"Sssshould I contact them ssssir?" Onotic 7084 hissed at his commanding officer Norbac.  
  
Norbac 5532 was no fool, His Hork-Bajir eyes were cold and calculating as he watched the undisguised flight of this intruder on his usually quiet rounds. "No, hit them with scanners, maintain radio silence." Onotic punched in some buttons and watched his screen.  
  
In the bridge a buzz came from the sensors, Roach Siggs and Mace stared at it. "What's that buzzing noise?" Siggs asked.  
  
"Probably we're gonna be jumpin' again soon." Roach answered.  
  
"Probably." Mace agreed, "Alright little girl, no stalling, first time, lay it on us."  
  
"Shit sugah, I don't stall." Siggs replied but seemed uncharacteristically slow to speak, "Son of a preacher man was my first, he was seventeen, I was, twelve."  
  
"Twelve!" Roach exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah twelve goddamnit, I was very well developed for my age." Siggs argued.  
  
"Twelve year old southern-girl fucking the local priest's son." Roach nodded, "Your mother must've been so proud."  
  
"Shit darlin', who do ya think was doin' the preacher in the next room?"  
  
After a moment of careful watching Onotic hissed in shock and turned to Norbac, red jelly eyes bulging "The Ssss, the ssss-ssship, it'sssss, thosssse humansss, the human rebelsssss."  
  
Norbac looked at the panicking Yeerk in disgust and remaining emotionless punched the com button "Minedefense 12, this is Minedefense 11, we have the ship in our sights, we believe it to be those rebels from the Earth system that's got the Emperor tied in knots, back us up in attack, we're moving in."  
  
"So how was it?" Mace managed to ask between snarls of laughter, tears rolling through the fur of his cheeks.  
  
If Roach didn't know her better he'd have sworn Siggs was embarrassed by this point, "Terrible, over in a coupla heavin' sweaty minutes, shit was almost boring, don't believe all ya hear on the playground 'bout black fellas." Her seeming indignation sent the other two in fresh peals.  
  
They were still laughing when the first blast rocked the ship and the sensor station began blaring incessantly, "Whoa, what the fuck was that?" Roach yelled. "Asteroid?"  
  
"That didn't feel like no asteroid to me." Mace said slowly. The three leapt to their stations.  
  
"Oh shit darlin's, we got two Bugs comin' in real quick-like from the as'roid field." Called Siggs.  
  
"Shields up!" Mace yelled. Outside the fast moving fighters encircled The Phoenix, lancing beams of light fiercely attacked the wavering shields.  
  
"Come on, come on, come on.." Roach muttered, staring at his screen, "Alright, I got lock, firing torpedo." A deadly ball of blue-white light roared from the front of the ship and blazed towards one of the fighters, slamming it's shields into oblivion and sending it into a dangerous tailspin through the outskirts of the asteroid field, Roach let loose with a barrage of Dracon beams as the fighter attempted to right itself, sending the Yeerks ploughing into a meteor, a collision that ruptured their ship completely, blowing it into a million sparkling pieces.  
  
"Nice shootin' sugah." Called Siggs as she stared down her scopes, "But this one's mine." She let loose with a vicious flurry of laser fire that cut around the remaining fighter and churned several asteroids to dust.  
  
Taz came racing onboard, pulling a robe around his shoulders "What the fucks going on?" He yelled over the battle noise.  
  
"Aww shit Taz nothing to worry bout, just a little local trouble." Roach yelled back, "Don't tell me we short-circuited your electronic rendezvous."   
  
"As a matter of fact you.." Taz was interrupted as the ship shook with fresh blasts.  
  
"Figured as much." Mace told him, "That robe closes for a reason you know."  
  
"Will you boys shut yer pie holes so I can get down ta business?" Siggs growled. She fired a torpedo, it ducked the fighter's failing shields and ripped an entire side off the ship, the flaming wreckage arched off into the asteroid rubble.  
  
"Shit I'm bad." Siggs declared, she pulled out a Marlboro and lit in with an unwavering hand, Roach conceded several short sharp claps in her honour.  
  
Mace breathed deeply and let it out in one long gust, "Computer, continue with preplanned Z-space trajectory." The autopilot flared and took over once again.  
  
Moonbeam rushed into the bridge with Rachel in close pursuit "What's going on up here? We under attack or sumthin?"  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
"Alright, I'm going back to bed."  
  
Chapter Thirty-Two  
  
Visser 27's flagship The Judicator hung above the planet Pentasera, his fleet spread out below him. The Visser sat at the bridge, scuffed boot heels on the console in front of him and prayed to whatever gods might be out there for news of Moonbeam and his posse, he was not a patient Yeerk and more inclined to action than thought.  
  
Admiral Pietta raced to his side and saluted, he looked positively flustered, scared almost, but it must have been good news, the Admiral always delivered the best news personally and left the bad up to his inferiors, a cowardly but perhaps intelligent in an army where 'don't kill the messenger' wasn't a sentiment often expressed by Vissers.  
  
"My Visser, we have received word that the human rebels have attacked an asteroid mining colony mere sectors away from here."  
  
Visser 27 leapt into action, "Set course immediately."  
  
"But sir, at this point reports are sketchy, we.."  
  
"Saddle up, and lets ride, Admiral." The Visser growled  
  
The Admiral barely grasped the human sentiment, "Right away sir."  
  
The departing signal and cords spread throughout the fleet and they fired up their engines, by the masses the legions of ships fired off into Z-space, leaving behind only the planets minimum surface guard.  
  
Before the ship's afterimage had even faded a solitary ship ploughed through into the quiet sailing left behind, Moonbeam and his posse stood ready at the bridge.  
  
"See, nothing to worry about." Dave remarked, "And you guys were worried we'd run into a fleet or something, have a little faith."  
  
To Be Continued  
  
Britz-Y'know I don't want to point fingers to save my own ass but Quill has kept us waiting just as long and he's far more popular than my little piece.  
  
(Yeah Quill let's get Quill.)  
  
(Totally should give this chapter a good review first and stick it to that guy.)  
  
Would also like to mention those of you who have started to read this seemingly new fic you've never seen before that already has 12 chapters that you've picked a good time, I swear to be more dilligent in writing if anybody's still out there to care and I think with this next wacky adventure Moonbeam's War is FINALLY getting some punch to it. 


	13. We Come In Peace

Britz-This chapter doesn't exactly curl my toes I must admit, I'm posting it because i'm a man of my word but it wasn't easy, had it sitting heavy and ugly around for a long while now.  
  
Chapter Thirty-Three  
  
The Phoenix hung in orbit above the dank and swampy Gervasid half of Pentasera, hiding in the shadow of the planet in order to remain undetected, it was a ruse that would not last long but their luck had held so far.  
  
"Well Dave, we got some options here, and we got to look at them fast," Mace told him, "First, should mention there is an established freedom fighter group on surface already, actually there may be a few of 'em, this ain't really clear, either way these guys have got the Yeerk's in this sector stirred up something fierce."  
  
"Any chance we could link up with one?"  
  
"About a snowball's chance in a supernova Davey-boy, If the Yeerks can't find 'em then we ain't gonna have much luck." Mace replied "As for our fightin' slugs we got a Pool Ship orbiting on the other side of the planet, protected by it's own fleet, attacking it would be a big no-no, you guys may have been slick as shit with those back in your own system but they weren't expecting attack, this ones got a whole fleet ready for one, hell they should have more than that normally, I think we got lucky."  
  
"So that's a no on the Pool ship, what about planet-side?" The crew marvelled at how fast he'd picked up this Captain Kirk bit.  
  
"Well capt'n, we got Yeerks crawlin' all over tha place." Siggs took over, "A lot of garrisons jus' askin' for it."  
  
"Anything stand out?"  
  
"Lab complex." Rachel answered, "Some Yeerk science big wig, looks like a pretty major hit."  
  
"If by major you mean impossible." Rasped Roach.  
  
"Impossible eh?" Dave was grinning dangerously, "Do tell me more."  
  
"You'd need an army to so much as take a gander at this place." Roach said, "We'd be blown out of the air before we could even see the place, locked up tight in a mountain range, only approach is miles through about the meanest fucking swamps you'd ever see, real heavy guard, no fucking way we'd be getting in."  
  
"Alright, I get the point." Moonbeam's face fell, "We'll start small, a garrison here, a command post here, see where it takes us."  
  
"Hey Dave we got an S.O.S signal coming through over here!" Rachel yelled, "Looks like a Yeerk platoon got itself some local trouble, and we're closer than any support."  
  
Moonbeam leapt into action, "Take us there, this could be a break for us!" The ship arched down towards the swamps of Eastern Pentasera.  
  
Chapter Thirty-Four  
  
The Phoenix landed heavily planet side with a squelch and a sigh, the swamp around was silent except for the wind rustling in the stunted patches of reeds that actually made good, the ramp lowered itself from the belly of the ship and cautiously the Posse made their way down, as if creeping by on tippy-toes they might throw off anyone who hadn't noticed the arrival of the megaton spacecraft.  
  
As their feet stepped onto the semisolid swampland their boots sunk up to the laces and the mud sucked longing at their feet as they walked.  
  
"There was a fight here." Said Taz simply, and it was clear he was right, the bodies had been cleared away but the ground was littered with blast marks and strange frantic tracks in the mud, a Dracon beam lay half submerged in a puddle.  
  
"We can't stay here forever Dave." Rachel said finally, "Yeerks will be on their way you know."  
  
"I know, but this is our chance." Moonbeam replied, "Yo! We come in peace!" He was greeted only with an appraising silence.  
  
"I don't mind telling you Dave, this place makes me fucking nervous." Mace said as he reached inside his suit and drew both his guns, Dracyer Lawman's, shiny and silver and ridiculously large even in the Dracyer's claws, long smooth barrels shaped like compensation jokes waiting to happen, "I can't smell shit over the swamp and the laser runoff but meanwhile trust an old space farer only two things survive in places this fucked; Mean and Ugly."  
  
As if that was a cue the swamp around them seemed to explode to life, creatures, large as life and as ugly as sin erupted from the mud around them, they had lizard like heads not unlike Earth's komodo dragon and crowned with ram like horns, five crab like limbs encircled their bodies, in these limbs they held weapons, without hesitation they opened fire.  
  
Roach took the first, a direct beam shot around the head and neck knocked him to the slimy ground, as far as Moonbeam could tell dead or unconscious, Siggs moved as if to aid him and another caught her in the chest, she flew back firing wildly into the air, Rachel fell against him, a slack face still filled with shock, he saw one of Mace's hand cannons go off, blowing back one of the crab/lizard creatures with a deadly spear of blue light before he too was taken down. Taz fired valiantly, for several seconds after he was shot he seemed not to notice but when it finally caught him he fell heavily, face down in the mud.  
  
Moonbeam had stopped, the blasts seemed to have forgotten him but he stood stock still as if waiting for a target to present itself, waiting for that same eerie clarity of battle when from directly in front of him the mud erupted and like Godzilla returning from the depths an enormous beast unfolded itself in front of him.  
  
He was ten foot tall if he was an inch and his skin seemed to be changing colours as he stood up, from a murky brown the perfect imitation of the swamp around him to a healthy green flush, it looked like a velociraptor on steroids, certainly it's head bore a resemblance but with long horns around the ear area and jutting tusks out of a mouth filled with ripping canines. It's body was a massive expanse, a slightly hunched mountain of lizard flesh, it's long and powerful looking legs unfolded from the mud, a tail over twice the length of the beast itself ripped out the mud and waved in the air dangerously.  
  
It held in it's arms the most serious looking gun Moonbeam thought he had ever seen, it looked somewhat like a pump action shotgun but rather than a long and slender barrel it was black and blocky giving it an appearance more akin perhaps to a personal grenade launcher, not to mention Moonbeam thought as the beast slid the pump action of his weapon back and forth with terrifying ease, that the bore of the gun looked so large he could probably cram his entire fist into it, he was struck with the maddening urge to try just that, it was the last thought he had before a flash of red and a whole lot more black.  
  
Chapter Thirty-Five  
  
He blinked himself into grainy consciousness, it took almost a full minute for his eyes to adjust to the dim light and finally become aware of the hulking figure over him, he went to rub his eyes and chains jangled around his wrist.  
  
His head swept back and forth for a moment trying to establish a sense of where he was and the enormous creature kicked at him with its foot.  
  
"Good to see you awake Yeerk, we were afraid you were going to sleep the day away." It rumbled.  
  
Moonbeam squinted at it, he wasn't sure if it was the same creature who had risen up out the mud but it looked close, almost undistinguishably so in the dim light, certainly it was the same species and around the same size.  
  
"Where am I?" He said.  
  
"Somewhere your comrades will never find you I can promise that much."  
  
"What? I ain't no Yeerk, where are my people?"  
  
"Alive, we're currently trying to decide wether we should starve you out, torture you for information or simply kill you outright." The hoarse and heavy voice was off handed; he might have been discussing the weather.  
  
"I like the starving myself, starving is good."  
  
"Really?" It was the first hint of emotional infliction Moonbeam had heard, "Well we'll see."  
  
Like miniature mortars to Dave's corneas light suddenly burst apart the darkness, dazzling him, he blinked away the irritation and spied to either side the slumped figures of his crewmates, a couple beginning to stir and growl in their sleep.  
  
The Gervasid stepped back, behind him two of his smaller five-armed cronies stood sentry at the heavy metal door, it threw out it's arms at the empty room with dirt and stone walls dramatically, "The name's Tak Sistranus, Son of Krull, welcome to Iron Flagg."  
  
To Be Continued  
  
Britz-Oh and I just want to point out, as if you didn't know, that Tak Sistranus is not mine own invention, neither Iron Flagg, or Pentersera, y'know, everything, isn't mine, rights reserved to Elcolo9 and his Antimorph's Saga, I would've made a disclaimer but didn't want to go spoilling the "surprise". Review you mangy curs. 


End file.
